Making A Connection
by Chameleon777
Summary: What if the Rescue Rangers were Humans with very different lives, very different pasts, and very different professions? What if there was more to their individual beginnings before they became a team? This is their true, Human story.
1. Dark and Stormy Days

The rain fell outside as inside, protected by the warmth of insulated walls, heating, and glass windows, Chip De La Hoya sat in his armchair by the blazing fire with a newspaper in hand and a robe covering him for warmth as he sat, mustering the will to travel outside the comfort of his neighborhood for the first time in what seemed like years. In fact, it had only been a month since the awful tragedy.

A mad criminal named Nimnul, who had been running a deal for his boss, a notorious gangster known to all as 'Fat Cat', had plowed into the De La Hoya family van as it was en route to a pleasant weekend in the countryside. 'Fat Cat' had deserted the scene and no trace of him or the gang had been found.

Chip, to his disgust, had been the sole survivor of the crash and the media had been all over the place to the point where he rarely even left his home.

As Chip was contemplating dressing and going to the neighborhood pub for a drink, a brisk knock suddenly interrupted his tranquility, "Mister De La Hoya, I apologize for disturbing you," the voice of his housekeeper, Foxy Glove, carried through the door in a sweet tone. "However, I felt I should remind you that your physiotherapy appointment is today and you are running rather low on groceries."

Letting out a sigh, Chip slowly set the paper down on the side table and winced as he rose from the chair, as he had spent nearly a month in the hospital recovering from the various injuries he had received in the terrible accident and his body was still healing and still had various bandages on it.

It took a lot of energy for Chip to grab his cane from the nearby wall and use it to help him walk to the door to let Foxy in. As expected, Foxy was dressed in a pink suit and sneakers with her slowly graying hair in a tight bun while her glasses sat perched on her nose and a pink purse hung on her shoulder.

"I'm going off duty until this evening, sir," Foxy explained calmly. "Would you like me to call you a cab?"

Chip nodded, "That would be wonderful, thank you," he replied quietly, still unable to drive.

Foxy nodded and Chip quickly smoothed down his hair before reaching for his fedora that hung on the rack near the door. Self-conscious of the injuries that were still healing, he used his cane to get himself to the bathroom for a sponge bath since he wasn't allowed to bathe yet.

Once the sponge bath was done, Chip slowly returned to his room and dressed in professional, but comfortable clothing.

Pain shot through Chip's body and he slowly sat down on his bed, knowing full well that his body couldn't tolerate the long walk that the grocery store was, but he had no choice. His parents cared very little for him and his brother, Dale, had long abandoned the lifestyle that he had been expected to live.

"Your taxi is on its way, sir," Foxy said as she came back in the room and saw Chip sitting down. "Sir?"

Chip nodded, but made no effort to move, "Mister De La Hoya, if you wish to make a list, I can always go to the store for you," Foxy offered gently, noting that Chip looked ready to fall asleep. "Rest well, sir."

"Thank you," Chip spoke softly as he laid down in the unmade bed and allowed his eyes to close.

Foxy nodded, her thoughts with Chip's now deceased wife and children as she left him to rest.

* * *

A loud POP caused Dale De La Hoya, who detested the richness of his last name as much as he detested the money that came with it even if he could use it to travel, to quickly park in the first available spot on the long stretch of road where many stores were.

Fighting the urge to swear, Dale hopped out of his car and quickly surveyed the damage; a tire had blown, but it wasn't hard to get someone to fix it,

Silently cursing, Dale turned his car off, got out, and locked it with the automatic button on his keychain as he strode towards a grocery store that looked friendly. Besides, he was hungry and needed to eat.

Upon entering the store, Dale smoothed down his Hawaiian shirt and plucked his debit card out of the jeans to stock up on on-the-road food, nearly running into a well-dressed woman who was on a cell-phone as he went to grab a cart, "…Yes, Detective Jack, I'll let Detective De La Hoya know that you're thinking of him," the woman was saying in a soft voice. "…No, he's reluctant to take any pain pills."

Dale frowned at the mention of a Detective De La Hoya, seeing as the only one he knew was his twin brother, Chip, who had went into a Policing college program straight out of high school on a full scholarship. He hadn't seen Chip for years, but the mention of Chip being ill worried him deeply.

Waiting until the woman was off the phone, Dale silently crept up behind her, "Ma'am, I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I overheard you mention a Detective De La Hoya and I was wondering if he's okay?" he asked in a concerned voice, stepping back as Foxy turned just in case she wanted to slug him.

"Are you Dale De La Hoya?" Foxy asked softly, seeing that the man was identical to her employer and remembering that Chip had mentioned having a brother.

Dale nodded, confused as to how she knew him, "I'm Foxy Glove," Foxy explained softly, gesturing to her rapidly filling grocery cart. "I'm the main housekeeper for a Detective Chip De La Hoya."

Frowning, Dale nodded, but didn't say anything, "About a month ago, Chip, his wife, and children were in a serious car accident and Chip was the only one who survived," Foxy explained quietly, frowning as Chip turned considerably pale. "He's out of the hospital now, but still recovering from his injuries."

"I should call him or something," Dale replied softly, his expression solemn. "It's been a while…"

Before Foxy could reply, her cell-phone rang again and she answered it, "Foxy Glove," she said in an anxious voice, frowning as she heard the voice on the other end. "Mister De La Hoya…."

"He's throwing up," Foxy whispered, frowning as retching sounds filled the phone. "Oh, dear."

Dale nodded and determined he would follow this woman to wherever Chip was and help him out, "Once you're done shopping, can I come with you?" he asked softly. "To help my brother?"

Foxy nodded as she waited for Chip to be able to return to the phone and say what he needed, but there was a click and she sighed, "Chip's probably resting," she said softly. "We should hurry and shop."

* * *

Nearly an hour later, Dale managed to hitch a ride with Foxy to the mansion while his car was in the garage for a new tire after he had cleaned it out.

While Foxy put the groceries away in the kitchen, Dale found himself going up the stairs and after passing several very clean rooms that hadn't been touched in what seemed like ages, he wandered into the master bedroom and saw Chip crouched on the floor of the master bathroom, silently leaning against the toilet bowl with his eyes closed and tears in them.

 _Is this really Chip?_ Dale thought worriedly as he saw the bandages and rumpled clothes on his brother, as Chip had always been neat and clean, enough that Dale had suspected him of having slight OCD.

"Chip, can you hear me?" Dale asked softly, grateful that he had used some of his money to take paramedic training and also some caregiver courses in the summers between his Policing courses.

Chip's eyes slowly opened, but he whimpered, "Hurts," he whispered. "I have prescriptions…"

Dale looked around and quickly found two prescription bottles on the counter that had Chip's name on them as well as a box that was filled with medical supplies and labelled as being from Chip's doctor.

Quickly grabbing an empty cup that was on the sink, Dale filled with water and grabbed one pill out of each of the bottles, "Here, I've got your pills," he said as he knelt down next to Chip. "Open wide."

With Dale's help, Chip managed to swallow both pills and drink some water, "I'm going to clean you up a bit and get you into some clean clothes," Dale said as he left the bathroom. "Just hang tough."

In no time at all, Dale had cleaned Chip up, changed his brother's clothes into something more warm and comfortable, and was leading Chip to bed, "What are you doing in town, Dale?" Chip asked weakly.

"We can talk about that later," Dale replied softly, helping Chip lie down on the bed. "You need rest."

Chip sighed sleepily and closed his eyes, allowing Dale to cover him up and make him as comfortable as possible using stuff in the box the doctor had sent. He silently put an IV of fluids in Chip's hand and also got a bucket from the bathroom to leave by the bed, but he left the fedora on Chip's head.

Figuring that Chip would sleep for hours, Dale silently set the box on the floor and wandered around the upstairs until he found a pristinely kept office that had framed articles all over the wall, all of them referring to some sort of accident that had killed everyone but Chip. _Wow._ Dale thought sadly.

A retching sound drew Dale away from the articles and he hurried back into the bedroom just in time to see Chip curl up into a ball and add another pile of light vomit to the pile in the bucket beside the bed, "I-I hurt," Chip managed to say, not looking up at Dale. "C-Call Doctor Hackwrench…at the hospital."

Frowning, Dale reached for the phone and quickly dialed 9-1-1, determined to get Chip to the hospital and make sure that his brother got whatever he needed because he had lost far too much already.

* * *

Fat Cat adjusted his dark tie as he strode into the room where several of his henchmen waited with a skinny man in dark green jeans and a light green shirt that had skin paler than the moon and a beanie on his head, "Well, Zipper, what did you find out?" he asked in a snarling voice. "What happened?"

"Ze police vere on to Neemnul and I," Zipper replied, his Russian accent making it difficult for him to speak clearly enough to avoid a beating. "I had to hide and vatch as zey took him off to ze nut house."

Fat Cat scowled and in a flash, he grabbed Zipper by the ear and escorted him out of the building with his henchmen following closely behind, "Go back to Russia, you skinny punk!" he shouted, cackling as he threw Zipper into a pile of dirt just near the wall of another building. "Come back again and I'll kill you!"

The door to the building slammed and Zipper trembled, grateful that Fat Cat had not robbed him of the backpack that he had carried with him ever since he was a boy and immigrated to America. Shaking, Zipper silently made his way down the alley and flinched as he stepped out on to the dirty sidewalk.

Now that Fat Cat had declared him useless because of the failed attempt to rob yet another store of valuable equipment that could be used to carry out their plans, Zipper knew that he was better off dead or in jail because Nimnul would never be released and Fat Cat would seek revenge for that day's failure.

* * *

 _ **What do you think? Is this worth continuing or should I do a Raccoons one?**_


	2. Lending A Hand

_"...Boy, that rain is coming down hard. Does it always rain like that in this city, Doctor...?"_

 _"Hackwrench, son. My name is Doctor Gerry Hackwrench, but friends call me Geegaw and I don't know why...and yes, it does rain a lot here in the summer time..."_

 _"...I'm Dale De La Hoya, Chip's brother...I know we don't look much alike, but..."_

Feeling warmth underneath his body, Chip tried to move his hand to grab his pain medication, but he found that his hands were bound. Panic filled him as he wondered if he was back in Fat Cat's lair, being tortured not long before Donna and the children had been killed in the accident. Why was he tied up?

Alarms blared and the more Chip struggled, the more he felt resistance, "Chip!" he suddenly heard a yell that sounded very much like Dale. "Chip, please! Stop struggling or you'll end up ripping your stitches!"

Shaking violently, Chip forced his eyes open and was deeply confused about where he was until he saw Dale standing alongside Dr. Hackwrench, who was wearing scrubs, "W-where am I?" Chip gasped.

"Take it easy, Detective," Dr. Hackwrench said calmly. "You had emergency surgery for appendicitis."

Chip nodded and eyed the restraints around his hands, "What are these?" he asked anxiously.

"Since you're awake, they're unnecessary now," Dr. Hackwrench replied calmly, swiftly removing the restraints and throwing them in the laundry basket. "Your appendix burst, so I had to remove it, okay?"

Chip nodded, but didn't say anything because he was beginning to feel drowsy, "Chip, why don't you get some rest?" Dr. Hackwrench spoke up gently, seeing that Chip was drifting off. "I'll check on you later."

Nodding, Chip silently closed his eyes and Dale suddenly looked very concerned, "Dale, if you'd like to follow me out into the hall for a moment?" Dr. Hackwrench asked in an unusually anxious voice.

Deeply confused, Dale silently followed Dr. Hackwrench outside, "What's going on?" Dale asked softly.

"What I'm about to tell you is very serious," Dr. Hackwrench replied quietly. "I'm assuming you know about the car accident your brother was in, but what you don't know is why it happened."

Having seen the framed articles at Chip's house right before Chip had gotten sick, Dale nodded, "There are some very notorious gangsters in this city, the worst one being this guy named Fat Cat who has many, many henchmen that give the police a lot of trouble," Dr. Hackwrench explained softly. "Not long before the accident, Chip was held hostage and tortured by one of Fat Cat's henchmen, a guy named Nimnul. Fortunately, the police found out and rescued Chip while Nimnul went to a mental hospital."

"What?" Dale asked in an astonished voice, his eyes widening in shock. "I didn't know that..."

Dr. Hackwrench sighed, but said nothing, "Chip and I went our separate ways after high school because we had been put in foster care by then and it was very hard on both of us," Dale explained in a somber voice. "Chip invested himself in helping others and I went off across the world and got degrees..."

" _Doctor Hackwrench, please report to the lounge_ ," an automated voice suddenly spoke.

Dr. Hackwrench scoffed, "I'll check on Chip a little later," he replied calmly. "Just keep him calm."

Deeply mystified as to what Chip had gone through since they had separated to make their own ways in the world, Dale silently returned to the room and was surprised to see Chip awake and silently staring out the window, "I thought you were sleeping?" Dale asked in a concerned voice. "Are you okay?"

"I'm just feeling very weak," Chip replied softly. "I'm still recovering from the car accident and I had just left the hospital a couple of days ago even though Doctor Hackwrench wanted me to stay for another week to make sure my body was healing properly. I was in a coma for two weeks and I spent another week on a ventilator because I couldn't breathe well on my own. When the tube was out, I was done."

Dale's eyes widened in horror, "Foxy and Detective Jack both begged me to stay and take my time, but I couldn't," Chip explained softly. "The media were constantly breaking in here and bothering me with questions once I could breathe on my own. I could barely move, but I couldn't take any more of it..."

Tears filled Chip's eyes and like he had done for many of his past colleagues and patients who had been under severe emotional distress at times, Dale planted himself on the edge of the bed after removing the rail, "Come here," he said in a gentle voice, sighing as Chip slowly scooted over. "I'll stay with you."

"Thank you," Chip replied softly, suddenly feeling woozy from sharing so much emotional baggage. "I think I'm actually going to go back to sleep for a little while, so please just make sure I have quiet..."

Dale nodded and gently took Chip's hand in his own, carefully drying tears on Chip's face as he slept.

* * *

The last thing that Dr. Hackwrench expected to see when he entered the staff lounge was his daughter, who most people knew as Gadget, sitting on the couch with her two children, Mark and Tammy, both of whom were wearing clothes that looked too big while Gadget was wearing a coat that covered her.

"Daddy, the divorce is final," Gadget explained softly. "Denver's in with those gangsters and he got very upset that I wouldn't stay with him so he would look good. He got very angry, so I left with the children."

Dr. Hackwrench nodded and immediately offered her his keys from his pocket, "Use whatever you need from my house and I'll be home after work," he replied calmly. "I'll check on you via my cell-phone."

"Mommy, I'm hungry," Mark whined as Gadget took the keys. "When are we gonna go eat?"

Gadget sighed as she stood up, "We're gonna be staying with Grandpa for a while," she replied softly.

Dr. Hackwrench smiled as Gadget hugged him and then prepared to take her kids to his large home.

* * *

The smell of liquor caused Detective Monterey Jack's nose to twinge as he walked down the street of the business district towards his small, but comfortable townhouse. During his shift, he had gotten a text from Chip's assistant that Chip was back in the hospital with appendicitis and had had some surgery and even though Monty had intended to visit, the workload had taken enough of his time and energy.

Curious about where such a strong smell would be coming from, Detective Jack followed the smell and was both surprised and confused to see a young man sitting in an alley wearing ragged clothing and taking swigs out of a very large bottle of vodka. The young man was trembling and muttering to himself.

"Hey there, young one," Detective Jack said in a worried voice. "Are you all right down there?"

Heavily drunk, Zipper squinted up at the overweight detective and scoffed, muttering in broken Russian as he took another swig from the bottle, "Go avay," he slurred. "I am of ze legal age in zees country."

Detective Jack eyed the young man curiously, "Are you a refugee or a citizen?" he asked softly.

"You can check my bag eef you vant to arrest me," Zipper said in a slurred voice. "Vant a dreenk?"

Detective Jack shook his head and gently pried the bottle out of Zipper's hand, "It's getting cold out here, son," he spoke gently, setting the liquor out of Zipper's reach. "Do you have any place to go?"

"I am not your son," Zipper slurred, glaring at him. "I vas born here to parents who died in ze attacks by ze Fat Cat and hees meenions. He made me vork for heem and just zrew me out here to die!"

Detective Jack silently reached down and hauled Zipper to his feet, "I think you're too young, drunk, and scared to be out here on your own, so I'm going to take you to my place for the night," he spoke softly.

"I could fight you," Zipper slurred as he felt his legs give out. "I am a wery good fighter, you know."

Detective Jack sighed and silently escorted Zipper down the street, relieved when Zipper didn't resist the walk to the townhouse. Silence filled the air as they went inside and Detective Jack locked the door.

Unable to walk a straight line, Zipper hung on to the older man for dear life as he was led into a very large bathroom that featured a showerhead and a spa tub, "Eez eet time for ze vaterboarding?" he slurred, eyeing the shower warily. "I am geeting really good at seemply letting zem geet on veeth eet."

Frowning, Detective Jack gently sat Zipper down on the edge of the tub against the wall and silently removed the ragged jacket and shirt Zipper was wearing, revealing massive bruises, pale skin, and gashes on his torso, back, arms, and chest that looked as if they had come from waterboarding.

"Just sit there, okay?" Detective Jack said softly as he hurried into his bedroom and quickly grabbed an unopened pair of boxer shorts from the bag of clothes he had bought yesterday as well as a t-shirt, hoodie, and sweats from his closet and drawers before returning to the bathroom. "You still awake?"

Zipper muttered something in Russian, but barely reacted when Detective Jack removed the rest of his clothes to find more injuries and signs of malnutrition. Sympathy filled Detective Jack and he silently dressed the young man in the clean clothes before lifting him up and guiding him to the guest bedroom he usually let his parents sleep in when they visited, "Just go to bed," he said, helping Zipper lie down.

"Eet eez so nice and varm een here," Zipper mumbled drunkenly as he went into a very deep sleep.

Detective Jack quietly tucked the young man in and then moved over to the bag left by the door, determined to see who this young man was. He took the bag over to his dining room table and opened it, finding a worn wallet, an unloaded gun, a pair of threadbare gloves, a small book filled with photos, a lethal looking knife in a sheath, a badly tattered jean jacket, a folder stuffed with various papers, a watch, a taser, brass knuckles, and an American passport that looked as if was well cared for.

Detective Jack opened the passport, shocked when he saw a photo of a healthy, but very unhappy, thin looking young man next to the name _Pavel Federov Nikolayev_ and a birthday that said he was just 21. _Much, much too young to be suffering like this._ Detective Jack thought silently.

* * *

 ** _Please read and review!_**


	3. Lost and Found

_**Two Days Later**_

Chip scoffed as he slowly dressed himself in scrub pants, a loose tank, and a hoodie, "I understand your concerns, but I'll be fine," he said in a tired voice, glaring at Dr. Hackwrench. "Where's the form?"

"It's at the desk, Detective," Dr. Hackwrench replied calmly. "If you can walk there and get it…"

Scoffing, Chip slowly stood up and placed a hand over his bandages, "You play dirty, old man," he replied in a tense voice. "You know I can't even stand without help. How am I supposed to…?"

"Really, Chip, just relax and stay here for the rest of the week," Dr. Hackwrench spoke gently. "I know your recovery's been tough, but you might develop an infection if I actually let you leave now."

Chip glared at Dr. Hackwrench as the door opened and Dale came in, having retrieved his car from the shop and changed clothes, "Chip, what are you doing dressed and out of bed?" he asked worriedly.

"I honestly don't have time for this recovery crap, Dale," Chip replied sullenly. "I have things to…"

Pain shot through Chip and he suddenly doubled over, his face screwed up in enough agony that Dr. Hackwrench and Dale helped him lie back down on the bed, "I…I'm sorry," Chip whispered, tears coming to his eyes. "This is so incredibly hard for me to deal with right now. I've got a lot going on in my head…"

Dale nodded and helped Chip remove his hoodie before hanging the IV bags back on their poles, "It's all right, Detective," Dr. Hackwrench spoke gently. "If you'd like, I can arrange for a counselor to visit."

Chip nodded, closing his eyes out of sheer exhaustion as Dale put the oxygen tube back in his nose.

* * *

"Ah, you poor lad," Zipper heard a gentle voice say as he felt his face being dabbed with a wet cloth.

A dull ache echoed through Zipper's head as he opened his eyes and saw that his rescuer was sitting on the edge of the bed in jeans and a sweater, "Vat are you doeeng?" he asked in a weak voice.

"You had a seizure yesterday in your sleep," Detective Jack replied calmly. "Does that happen a lot?"

Zipper sighed, "Eeet happens ewery so often," he replied tiredly. "Ven I do not eat anyseeng."

Detective Jack nodded, "Am I going to jail?" Zipper asked softly. "I hawe done many bad seengs."

"What bad things have you done?" Detective Jack asked softly. "You look so very young to do that."

Zipper sighed, "I failed meesions for ze Fat Cat by takeeng vat I stole for heem to zose who needed eet," he replied in a groggy voice. "I vas wery much puneeshed and I got Neemnul sent to a nut house."

"You should probably see a doctor," Detective Jack spoke quietly. "I know of one."

Zipper looked uncertain, "I am a creemenal," he spoke softly. "Vhy do you not arrest me?"

"Because you were declared missing after the attack your parents died in and you were doing what you had to survive," Detective Jack replied quietly. "You've been on the Missing Person's list for years…"

Zipper looked incredibly sad as he rubbed his face, "Ze folder has eenformation zat ze police vill vant," he spoke shakily. "I vas already een trouble for helping ze detective escape from ze hostage shack."

"Detective De La Hoya?" Detective Jack asked in a stunned voice. "You…you helped him escape?"

Zipper nodded and trembled, frowning when Detective Jack produced a bowl of applesauce and a spoon, "Eat this and then I'll take you to see the doctor that I know," Detective Jack said softly.

Ignoring the shaking in his hands, Zipper tried to grab the bowl, but failed, prompting Detective Jack to fill the spoon and silently feed him. Once the bowl was empty, Detective Jack helped Zipper out of bed.

* * *

Convinced that Chip, who had been given a light sedative to help him sleep better in his highly emotional state, would sleep for hours, Dale silently left the room to stretch his legs and to also see if there was any sort of work to be found. He was currently between jobs and he didn't like it.

An anxious whimper echoed across the emergency room, prompting Dale to follow it and he found himself in view of Dr. Hackwrench gently dressing the wounds of an extremely skinny young man with a mess of curls on his head while a police detective held the trembling young man in his arms.

"Can…can I help in some way?" Dale asked, having been a paramedic before the consolidation.

At the sound of Dale's voice, Zipper lifted his head, "Deetecteeve De La Hoya, you are aliwe,"Zipper spoke in a shaky voice, slightly groggy from pain meds. "I am so sorry I could not help you faster."

Deeply confused, Dale gave the police detective a look before nodding, "Yeah," he lied, not wanting anyone to know that Chip was resting in another part of the hospital. "Are…are you okay?"

"Fat Cat puneeshed me for sawing you," Zipper replied shakily, wincing as he suddenly felt a pinch.

Dale watched as the police detective gently laid the young man down on his side, "Thanks, Detective Jack," Dr. Hackwrench said calmly. "I'll let you know when I have all the bloodwork back."

Detective Jack nodded and Dale followed him into the waiting area, "Now, I may have a few screws loose, but I know you're not Chip," Detective Jack said in a stern voice. "Are you his brother?"

"Who wants to know?" Dale asked in an uneasy voice. "I don't share my identity with strangers."

Detective Jack scowled, "I'm your brother's boss, cheeky," he replied. "You're just like Chip."

Dale sighed and nodded, "I'm Dale De La Hoya," he replied calmly. "I'm a paramedic among other things, but I recently lost my job and I ended up here cause of a flat tire. I just happened to run across him…"

"Where's Chip?" Detective Jack asked worriedly. "I'm assuming he's somewhere nearby."

Dale gave Detective Jack a suspicious look, "Why should I tell you anything?" he asked coldly.

"I've been your brother's boss and best friend since he joined the force out of college," Detective Jack replied calmly as he pulled his wallet from his jacket, opened it, and held it out for Dale to see.

Dale eyed the photo of Chip, who was wearing a full police uniform and holding a degree in one arm while the other arm was around a uniformed Detective Jack, "He did his university practicum under my supervision and he thinks of me as his surrogate dad," Detective Jack explained. "You can trust me."

"Chip's here recovering from appendicitis," Dale replied calmly. "He got a little anxious and tried to leave, but Dr. Hackwrench talked him into staying and gave him a sedative so he could rest."

Detective Jack sighed and nodded, "Our parents are either in jail or dead, I have no idea," Dale spoke softly as he led the detective to Chip's hospital room. "We were in foster care by junior high school."

"That's the most peaceful I've seen him since before the accident," Detective Jack commented as they entered the room and he watched Chip sleep aided by the sedative. "It was such a terrible thing."

Dale frowned, "Can you tell me a bit about what happened?" he asked in a concerned voice.

"Not here," Detective Jack replied quietly. "If Chip woke and heard me talking about it…"

Dale nodded, frowning when he heard faint whimpers, "…Stop, stop," an anxious voice spoke in a heavy Russian accent, prompting Detective Jack to step out of Chip's room. "I am sorry, eet hurts…"

"Pavel," Detective Jack spoke gently as he came back over to the bed and saw the very battered young man trying to pull away from Dr. Hackwrench and his many medical supplies. "What's wrong?"

Pavel sighed, "I can feel heem rubbeeng on bones," he whimpered. "You vent zrough my seengs."

"I had to," Detective Jack replied calmly, eyeing Pavel's shoulder. "Does your shoulder hurt?"

Pavel nodded, "I heard eet pop ven Fat Cat zrew me out," he replied shakily, his voice filled with pain.

Dr. Hackwrench sighed and got up, "I'm ordering full body x-rays," he said calmly. "Excuse me."

Pavel's eyes suddenly widened in fear as he saw an older man in a suit with a badge clipped to his belt come into the emergency room, "Monty, I thought you were _kidding_ when you said you came across Pavel Nikolayev in an alley," the older man said in a stunned voice as he saw Pavel on the exam bed.

"Are you also ze police?" Pavel asked nervously as he slowly sat up. "Am I going off to ze jail?"

The older man looked surprised and shook his head, taking a seat beside the bed, "No, I'm Simon Richards, the Chief of Police," he spoke kindly. "You went missing when you were 11 after your parents were murdered. Every law enforcement agency in the country's had you listed as a missing person."

Detective Jack's eyes widened, "Fat Cat took me," Pavel spoke shakily. "He made me vork…"

"Detective Jack gave me a folder that was in your things and I know you didn't want to do any of those things you did for him," Chief Richards spoke gently. "You kept really good notes about everything."

Pavel nodded, suddenly feeling tired as Dr. Hackwrench returned, "I need to eat," he spoke softly.

Not wanting the poor lad to have another seizure in his sleep, Detective Jack reached into his jacket and took out a fruit bar he kept on hand in case he had no time for dinner, "Take this," he said gently.

With great effort, Pavel took the fruit bar and unwrapped it, sighing as he bit into it, "If he doesn't eat, he'll eventually have a seizure," Detective Jack explained quietly, giving Dr. Hackwrench a look.

"I'll be doing a full blood workup too," Dr. Hackwrench replied. "Gadget can draw the blood."

Pavel paused at the mention of a needle, "Veel eet hurt or make me seeck?" he asked softly.

Dr. Hackwrench shook his head, "Hey Gadget?" he called down the hall. "Got a minute?"

There was a silence and Detective Jack smiled as Gadget, who was wearing purple scrubs under a white lab coat, came into view pushing a medical cart, "Uncle Monty, hi!" Gadget said, seeing Detective Jack.

"Hey there, Gadget," Detective Jack said warmly. "I heard you were back in the city."

Gadget nodded and looked at Dr. Hackwrench expectantly, "Gadget, I need you to draw some blood from this young man because he needs a gentle touch," Dr. Hackwrench explained in a kind voice.

Compassion filled Gadget's eyes as she looked down at Pavel, "You've been beaten by Fat Cat, haven't you?" she asked softly, seeing a look of hopelessness in Pavel's eyes as she sat on a chair by the bed.

"Da," Pavel replied softly, eyeing the medical cart. "Eez ze takeeng of blood going to hurt?"

Gadget shook her head, "I seenk my left arm eez broken," Pavel spoke softly. "Can I geeve you ze ozzer one…?"

"Of course," Gadget replied, sighing as Pavel offered his right arm. "I'm going to find a vein."

Pavel nodded, sighing as Gadget gently began pressing on his arm, "You are wery pretty," he said.

Gadget smiled and tied a band around his arm before showing him a needle, "I'm going to put this into your arm and take some blood, okay?" she asked gently, doing so when Pavel nodded silently.

* * *

 _ **Happy Tom Cat Casino**_

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN DETECTIVE DE LA HOYA SURVIVED THE WRECK?!" Fat Cat, who was an older man with graying hair sporting a purple suit, shouted at the top of his lungs as he sat at his desk in the office of his casino. "I ordered Nimnul and Nikolayev to make sure that nobody survived that car crash!"

Wart and Molio, two minions of Fat Cat who wore identical dark clothing, exchanged a look, "Nikolayev stabbed Nimnul and got Detective De La Hoya out of the car somehow," Molio stuttered anxiously.

"I should have killed that little Russian brat when he was 11!" Fat Cat shouted. "And the raids?"

Wart sighed, "Our warehouse was stripped bare and the cops took like 10 guys off to the jail, Fat Cat!" he exclaimed in a heavy Spanish accent. "I know how you feel about Paris and about your cousin…"

"My cousin is just as evil and is my only family since Jack and De La Hoya put my parents in prison!" Fat Cat snapped in an angry voice as he got up from his desk. "I do not care for your flighty attitude!"

Wart bowed and murmured an apology, "Ten years of work down the drain simply because Nikolayev decided to leave Nimnul to the police and play bleeding heart!" Fat Cat growled. "DENVER!"

A tall, very slim man in a navy suit strolled in, "Denver, fuel your plane and take us to Paris!" Fat Cat ordered in a brisk voice. "I have already called De Sade and he is going to put us up for a while."

Denver eyed Fat Cat warily and nodded, even though he had planned to go looking for Gadget and finish her off after she disrespected him, "De La Hoya will have to wait until this gang builds its strength back up," Fat Cat hissed angrily. "And when I am strong enough, I will come back and he can join his family!"

* * *

 ** _Please read and review!_**


	4. Definitely Not Okay

_**Four Days Later**_

 _ **De La Hoya Mansion**_

Chip sighed tiredly as he slowly entered his mansion and eyed the stairwell uncertainly while waiting for Dale to catch up. He had been released from the hospital, but he was far from feeling really okay.

"Chip," Dale spoke quietly as he came into the house and saw Chip looking up the long staircase. "No."

Chip gave Dale a look, "Climbing stairs would rip your sutures," Chip said firmly. "Is there anywhere…"

"I have a hideabed in the den," Chip spoke quietly, his eyes downcast. "Den's by the library."

Dale nodded and watched as Chip silently removed his coat and set his fedora just above it, leaving him in only slippers, a pair of scrub pants, and a loose t-shirt, "Come on," Dale prodded gently.

Not wanting to speak, Chip sighed and led Dale to the den, ignoring the fact that the den looked the same as it did before the accident, "Just sit down while I get the hideabed ready," Dale spoke softly.

Chip scoffed softly and watched Dale quickly take apart the couch and set up the hideabed, "I'm a trained paramedic and I know you need to be in bed," Dale spoke firmly, eyeing Chip's pallor.

"You…you probably have a job and a family to get back to," Chip spoke shakily, not moving because the mere thought of it made him hurt and nauseous. "I can arrange for someone to come in and…"

Dale gave Chip a look as he walked over to him, "The city's emergency services in Maine I was employed by consolidated and I lost my job," he explained calmly. "I should have insisted on a wheelchair."

Chip whimpered as Dale took his arm and gently guided him to the hideabed, "Thank you," Chip spoke quietly as Dale helped him sit and lie down on the bed. "If you need to eat, Dale, you can use…"

"I'm going to take a shower and go to bed myself," Dale replied calmly. "Need anything?"

Chip sighed sleepily, "No," he replied, closing his eyes. "I'm going to get a little rest."

Deeply concerned for his brother's health and sanity, Dale silently left the den to get Chip some tea and get a shower in. He knew Chip needed more help, but was satisfied with taking small steps for now.

* * *

 ** _Mount Sinai Hospital - Manhattan_**

"Tammy, take Mark into the school and then come back here when it's over," Gadget said as she held the phone to her ear, relieved that her children had found the school. "I love you both, bye bye."

The phone clicked and Gadget sighed as she returned it to the desk. With her father's help, she had managed to get a job as a 'floater' where she would go wherever the hospital needed her for a specific shift until a more permanent position opened up. Her father had allowed them to stay with him for however long they needed, but Gadget was slowly saving money to eventually buy another home.

Gadget's hospital beeper suddenly went off, letting her know that the Rehabilitation Floor needed assistance with a patient. Quickly returning the beeper to her pocket, Gadget silently made her way through the hospital by the stairwell and came on to the proper floor with a smile on her face.

Soft sobbing suddenly echoed down the hallway and Gadget followed the sound, frowning when she stopped outside of a patient room. Pavel was sitting on the floor in between the bathroom and his bed wearing scrub pants and a loose shirt with his left arm in a cast and sling while the right one clung to an IV pole containing several bags. Tears were running down his pale face and he looked exhausted.

"Mister Nikolayev, are you all right?" Gadget asked softly as she entered the room. "Did you fall?"

Pavel sighed, "I vas seenkeeng about zat and I vant to go by Zeeper," he replied softly. "I..."

"Did you hurt yourself when you fell?" Gadget asked softly, kneeling next to him. "Zipper?"

Zipper sighed, "My parents used to call me zat because I vas wery good at ze seweeng of ze clothes ve all had," he replied softly. "Ve had a market stall in our town and sold ze cloze I made for a leeveeng."

Gadget nodded, "I vas trying to use ze bazroom on my own to vash my face, but I knew I couldn't make eet zere, so I sat on ze floor," Zipper replied in a tired voice. "I vanted to look at myself in ze mirror and cry."

"Are you hurt?" Gadget asked in a worried voice, hating that Zipper looked extremely sick and tired.

Zipper shook his head, "Just tired," he replied softly. "And…my arm hurts a leetle beet."

Gadget nodded and carefully helped Zipper up, keeping a hold of him til he was back in bed, "Detective Jack eez at vork and I am so scared zat I am going to be arrested or keeled," Zipper spoke shakily.

Sighing, Gadget sat down on the edge of the bed and gently took Zipper's hand as he continued crying.

* * *

 ** _De La Hoya Mansion_**

Relieved that he had been able to get a shower and a shave for the first time since he had been laid off, Dale stepped out of the bathroom wearing jeans, socks, and a blue t-shirt. He silently rubbed his wet hair with his towel before he added it to the pile of Chip's laundry that was on his way back to the den.

As Dale came into the den, however, he was horrified to find that the hideabed was empty, "Chip!" he called out as he left the den and saw that Chip's coat and shoes were still there. "Chip?"

There was a silence and Dale suddenly heard quiet sobbing coming from upstairs, "Chip?" he called out.

Concerned about what Chip was doing, Dale quickly hurried upstairs and searched the rooms, frowning when he saw Chip sitting on a bed in a room with boxes in front of him that were filled with a mess of toys, clothes, books, and bedsheets. The beds had been stripped, the closets had been cleared, and the dressers were empty; everything had been jammed into boxes and Chip looked emotionally drained.

"There's an elevator behind the stairs," Chip spoke shakily. "I…I just had to get this crap done."

Dale sighed and Chip started trembling, "I have two more bedrooms to do plus the master bedroom, the kitchen, the den, the library, and the bathrooms," Chip spoke shakily. "I can't look at this stuff…"

"You should be resting," Dale spoke firmly as he offered his hand to Chip. "You're gonna end up sick."

Chip sighed, but didn't move, "Adam and Seth were only 10, you know," he spoke tonelessly. "Eden, my little eager gardener, was just six; Lily, my surprise flower, was two; and David was only six months…"

"Nice names," Dale asked quietly, sitting next to Chip on the bed. "What inspired those?"

Chip scoffed, "Donna," he replied softly. "She got inspiration from certain things in her life…"

"There's a lot of stuff here," Dale commented quietly. "Does it have to be dealt with right now?"

Chip sighed, "I can't stand looking at all of it," he replied tearfully. "It's too much, Dale…"

"Well, you've got some money, so why don't you rent a storage locker and put everything in there until you're ready and able to look at it?" Dale suggested gently. "Get some of your police buddies to come and pack it up while you supervise. I'm sure your precinct would love to come be of help to you."

Chip was quiet for a moment and nodded, "I'm not going to get any rest here," he replied tiredly.

"I have a car, you know," Dale replied calmly. "We can pack your meds and your clothes and go stay at a hotel somewhere in the city so you can get some rest. This is New York City, dude. Lots of hotels here."

Chip sighed, but didn't protest as Dale helped him up and guided him into the master bedroom before sitting him down on the bed, "I can even talk to that hot assistant of yours and see if she can move the stuff for you," Dale said as he grabbed a suitcase from the closet. "Do you care what clothes I…?"

"No," Chip replied numbly, silently hugging himself as Dale packed a bunch of his things. "I'm cold."

Dale quickly retrieved a hooded pullover from the massive closet and helped Chip put it on, "Any idea where you want to stay?" he asked, continuing the packing. "I don't know New York worth crap."

"Maybe something near Central Park," Chip replied softly. "I…I never took my kids there, so…"

Dale nodded and put Chip's wallet, passport, cell-phone, and badge in the bag before closing it and adding a few toiletries in the smaller pockets, "Do you want any books or CD's?" he asked quietly.

Chip sighed, but didn't say anything for a few minutes, "That stuff's in the library," he mumbled. "My reading glasses are in the bathroom along with all the meds and stuff I'm supposed to take."

Nodding, Dale quickly gathered the reading glasses in their case and Chip's medicines into a smaller bag from the bathroom and then grabbed the suitcase. Chip silently got up and kept quiet as they went downstairs in the elevator. Dale quickly went into the library and found an iPod, a few magazines, and a few books that he thought Chip might like before adding them to the bag already filled with toiletries.

Chip was at the door with his fedora on his head when Dale came out, but he didn't say anything, "Come on, Chippy," Dale said in a gentle voice, using the nickname he had given Chip when they were little.

Unwilling to speak, Chip nodded and silently followed Dale out to his car, standing perfectly still as he watched Dale put the bags in the backseat before coming back over to him, "Come on, it's okay,"

Chip silently allowed Dale to help him into the car and buckle his seatbelt before closing him in the car and hurrying around to the driver's side.

* * *

Before Chip knew it, they had driven into Manhattan, which made him realize that he had put himself in a state of semi-consciousness out of fear of being in a car.

As it was still early, traffic was light and Dale quickly found his way to a nice hotel that he knew was pricey, but would be comfortable. He parked and quickly got out, locking Chip in the car.

Realizing he couldn't get out, Chip suddenly started to tremble anxiously and closed his eyes, silently counting to 100 as he wondered why Dale had suddenly left and made it impossible for him to get out.

The doors suddenly clicked open and Chip felt himself being guided out of the car and sat down before everything started to move. A slight ding filled Chip's ears, but he felt like he was floating in mid-air.

There was a silence and Chip suddenly felt himself being stood up and guided forward, "Sir…is there anything else you require?" he heard a kind voice ask. "I do hope your brother feels better soon…"

"I hope he does too, but we're here so he can have some quiet rest," Dale said calmly. "Thanks."

Smiling because Dale had tipped him, the bellhop left and Dale silently sat Chip on one of the beds and pulled his slippers off, "Where are we?" Chip mumbled, not opening his eyes. "It feels really warm…"

Dale gently lifted Chip's legs on to the bed and helped him lie down, "The Plaza Hotel," he replied calmly. "You said you wanted a hotel near Central Park.

"If…If you lock me in the car again, I'll shoot you," Chip mumbled. "I was trapped…couldn't escape."

Dale froze; he had locked Chip in the car so he wouldn't try to run off and had inadvertently triggered memories of what must have been a devastating accident. It was then that he knew that Chip was not only physically messed up, but his emotions and mental state were also something to worry about.

Chip, however, was completely unaware that he had said anything and was slowly falling into a deep sleep because the bed was unfamiliar to him.

Quickly covering Chip up with blankets, Dale got his emergency bag off the cart that was filled with stuff he kept on hand in case there was an emergency. He opened the bag, set it on the bed, and quickly got a thermometer and other supplies out that he could use to take care of Chip while he slept soundly.

* * *

 _ **Mount Sinai Hospital - Manhattan**_

"…Pavel decided today that he wanted to go by a nickname," Gadget said in a quiet voice as she and her father walked down the hallway towards Pavel's hospital room. "He wants to be called Zipper now."

Dr. Hackwrench looked slightly confused, but recovered quickly, "Honestly, Gadget, if that's what comforts him, it's fine," he replied in a calm voice. "The poor kid spent 10 years in mafia captivity…"

"…Vat deed you do at your vork today?" a faint voice filled the hallway. "You look tired."

Gadget and Dr. Hackwrench approached the door to Zipper's room, pleased when they saw Detective Jack sitting on the edge of the bed where Zipper was now resting, "I'm a police detective who is terrible at paperwork and so I spent the day catching up on that," Detective Jack said kindly. "What did you do?"

"Zat must be fun to vork and help people," Zipper spoke quietly. "I vish I could go and do zat, but I seenk zat people must go to beeger schools for zat and I do not ewen have any high school education."

Detective Jack sighed patiently, "Fat Cat deed not seenk it necessary for me to read or write more zen I did," Zipper explained in a quiet voice. "He told me zat stealing and being bad didn't need a deeploma."

"Here, Zipper, look at what I brought you," Detective Jack said as he showed Zipper the bag. "Fast food."

Zipper eyed the bag, "Vat eez fast food?" he asked in a confused voice. "Vill eet make me run fast?"

Unable to help himself, Detective Jack chuckled softly and proceeded to educate his new, very young friend on things he had missed out on because of Fat Cat.

* * *

 _ **Please read and review!**_


	5. Understanding and Reaching Limits

_**Two Days Later**_

 _ **Plaza Hotel – Manhattan, New York**_

"… _Yeah, I can come in for an interview next week. Thank you so, so much. Take care…"_

Warmth flooded Chip's body as he slowly came back to awareness and felt soft sheets underneath his frail self. His eyes slowly opened and the first thing he saw was his left arm on the bed with an IV line taped to his hand and connected to a bag that was on a pole standing on the far side of the bed.

 _Where am I?_ Chip wondered as he lay there, trying to make sense of his surroundings. _A hotel room?_

Wondering if he had gotten a hold of some alcohol and drank himself into oblivion, Chip slowly sat up in bed and frowned when he heard water running in the bathroom, "Hello?" he called out in a tired voice.

There were footsteps and Chip froze at seeing Dale standing there in jeans, a t-shirt, and socks, "It's about time you woke up, Chippy," Dale said kindly. "You've been sound asleep for two days."

Chip frowned as he held up his left hand in confusion, "I put that in," Dale explained calmly, offering no further explanation simply because he didn't think Chip needed it. "Would you like to have a shower?"

"I can have a shower?" Chip asked in a tired voice, giving Dale a look. "I thought I wasn't…"

Dale sighed patiently, figuring that Chip had been too tired to actually listen to any of Dr. Hackwrench's aftercare instructions, "You can shower with help and as long as you keep the wound dry."

"Okay," Chip replied softly as he slowly got up out of bed. "Can you get this out of my hand?"

Dale nodded and quickly removed the IV before helping Chip into the bathroom, "I gotta go to the bathroom," Chip said in a quiet voice. "Don't drop me in the tub if you insist on helping me."

Sighing, Dale waited until Chip was done using the toilet and then carefully undressed him and gently removed the bandage, "It's got a stool so you can sit and rest while I clean you up," Dale explained as he helped Chip into the tub and on to the stool. "It's a telephone shower, so you'll get nice and clean."

Chip sighed, but kept quiet as Dale turned on the shower and used soap, scentless body wash, and a scentless shampoo and conditioner to clean him up. Dale quietly rinsed everything off, turned off the shower, and wrapped Chip in fluffy towels, "Sit and I'll get you some clean clothes," he said softly.

"Foxy must be wondering where I'm at," Chip said in a tired voice as Dale left the bathroom.

There was a patient sigh, "I called her and she's going to finish packing up your kids's rooms for you," Dale replied as he came back into the room with boxers, sweats, and a loose shirt. "Come on."

Chip got out of the tub and sighed as Dale dressed him, "I have to pay you back," he said groggily.

Dale didn't reply and instead helped Chip lie down in the other bed, keeping quiet as he redressed the wound, "I'll get someone to come make your bed," he finally said calmly. "What do you want to eat?"

"Something light, preferably," Chip replied in a tired voice. "I can't go back…to that house…"

Dale silently went over to the table and began poring through the menu, "You're right," he replied calmly, shocked at how expensive things were at the hotel. "Maybe in a few days after you…"

"No," Chip replied in a shaky voice. "I only was at the house for a couple of weeks after checking myself out of the hospital, but it just felt so cold and empty there. I spent most of the time hiding out in my easy chair and dry firing at the contents of my liquor cabinet with my off-duty gun and crying."

A sniffle filled the air, "I thought about turning the gun on myself," Dale suddenly heard Chip say.

Dale froze and turned to look at Chip, frowning when he found Chip sobbing, "I didn't do it, but if I have to go back to that house, I might start thinking that way again," Chip sobbed. "I _can't_ go back there."

Quickly setting the menu aside, Dale silently walked over to the bed and gently held Chip as he cried, "You've been through something very terrible and it's normal to have those thoughts," Dale explained in a gentle voice, gently rubbing Chip's back. "You don't have to go back to your house if you don't want to, okay? There are a lot of nice places in the city that might be better for you than that huge mansion."

"I didn't act on my thoughts, I swear," Chip breathed in an anxious voice. "Dale, I'm _not_ suicidal."

Dale sighed as he helped Chip lie back, "You're grieving," he replied softly. "Grilled cheese okay?"

"Could you see if they'll put some meat on it?" Chip asked softly. "I always ate them that way at work."

Nodding, Dale went over to the phone that was near the menu, determined to help how he could.

* * *

 _ **Mount Sinai Hospital**_

"I am seeck," Zipper moaned softly as he lay in bed. "Eet hurts me to breathe and eet makes me cough."

Dr. Hackwrench sighed patiently and sat down in a chair next to the bed, "It's called bacterial pneumonia and you probably have it because of living at Fat Cat's and on the street," he explained calmly, gently smoothing down the tape that held several IV's in place. "I've given you medicine called antibiotics that will help make it go away, but it will take time and you won't feel good for a while."

"Can I hawe a book to read, please?" Zipper asked softly. "One veeth beeg vords zat I can see?"

Dr. Hackwrench frowned, "Can you not see normal print?" he asked in a concerned voice.

"Eet eez blurry," Zipper replied softly, coughing as he spoke. "I…am liking reading ze books…"

Dr. Hackwrench nodded, "I'll get someone in here to check your eyes, but I'd like you to try and sleep for a little bit right now," he said gently. "I think Detective Jack might come visit you after he's done work."

"Zat vould be nice," Zipper replied in a sleepy voice. "Can I get a job here to pay for ze medeeceene?"

Dr. Hackwrench looked surprised, "Medeecene eez not free, right?" Zipper asked in a tired voice.

"I don't want you to worry about that right now, okay?" Dr. Hackwrench said gently. "Sleep."

Zipper nodded and went to sleep as Dr. Hackwrench left the room, sighing sadly as he went down the hallway to a small waiting area, "Detective Jack," he said in a calm voice, smiling at the police detective as he sat in one of the larger chairs. "Zipper's asleep and I'm sure you have to be at work by now?"

"Fat Cat and his people left the country," Detective Jack replied calmly. "Chief Richards wants to personally thank Pavel for his help because that young man was able to keep such good notes."

Dr. Hackwrench sighed, "He doesn't like the name Pavel and has asked that we address him as Zipper because it's a nickname his parents gave him," he explained quietly. "Zipper has bacterial pneumonia along with everything else and it's treatable, but I also think he needs glasses. He said that he couldn't read smaller words and he's also asking me how he can pay for all the medicine and hospital time."

Detective Jack sighed softly, "Aw, bless his heart," he said gently. "I'll take care of whatever he needs and I'm also talking to some teacher friends of mine about getting him some schoolbooks because he hasn't had any education since he was 11. He seems to like reading, so maybe he'll like schoolwork."

"Monty, you're so good," Dr. Hackwrench replied gently. "I'm sure Zipper will sleep for a while yet."

Nodding, Detective Jack got up, "I'll come back later," he replied calmly. "Thanks Gerry."

* * *

 ** _Plaza Hotel – Manhattan, New York_**

Chip sighed as he finished off the grilled cheese sandwiches and set the empty plate on the bedside table, "That was good," he said in a tired voice as he slowly sat up. "I guess I need to make some decisions about things now that I've slept, bathed, and eaten. Dale, what are you doing over there?"

Dale sighed calmly as he unfolded the wheelchair he had requested along with the room service, "I booked us some spa stuff," he replied in an enthusiastic voice. "I know you never liked having money and did your best to avoid using it whenever possible, but it can help you when you need it."

"What's a spa?" Chip asked in a confused voice, giving Dale a look. "I never even heard of one."

Dale gave Chip a patient look, "Your body could use it, I think," he replied calmly. "I think, though, you might faint if you tried to walk down there, so I'll chauffeur you there and get a treatment too."

"I'm still healing from broken bones and stuff, Dale," Chip replied softly. "And mob torture."

Dale nodded, "I explained that and they'll be gentle," he spoke as he brought the chair to the bed.

Chip silently climbed out of bed and took his wallet off the table as they moved out of the room, resting it in the pocket of his clean sweats. The ride downstairs was quiet and Chip found himself appreciating that Dale was doing what he could to make the journey painless and comfortable for him.

Once they were in the spa, Chip slowly got out of the wheelchair and hugged a wall as he watched Dale talk to the spa attendants and then come over to him, "I don't know how I feel about strange people touching me, Dale," he admitted quietly, eyeing the attendants nervously. "I'm sorry…I…."

"I'll be right there," Dale said softly, giving Chip a kind look. "I just want you to relax and enjoy it."

Chip sighed and allowed himself to be led into the treatment rooms, "Massage?" he asked softly.

"I've had them before and the masseuses are really gentle," Dale replied gently. "You strip and they put a towel over you and then they'll put some stuff on you to help you with your pain. It's perfectly safe."

Sighing, Chip went behind the dressing screen and stripped before putting a towel around himself and emerging, "Hello there, sir," a female masseuse with salt and pepper hair said in a kind voice as she smiled at Chip. "My name is Lina and I will be taking care of you. If you want to lie down on the pillow…"

Nodding, Chip silently rested himself on the table and was relieved to feel the pillow supporting his healing abdomen, "Just take deep breaths," Lina spoke softly. "I'm going to start the massage, okay?"

"Okay," Chip replied softly, sighing as he felt his shoulders and back being massaged. "I'll try…"

As the massage continued, Chip suddenly felt woozy and nauseous as his mind drifted back to the torture he had been through courtesy of Fat Cat and his ugly minions not long before the car accident; it made him feel tense and remember why he didn't enjoy being touched by people he didn't know.

"Sir?" Chip suddenly heard a voice say through the fog he was sinking into. "Sir, you've gone rigid…"

There was a silence and Chip suddenly felt himself being lifted from the table and covered in something soft and fluffy, "I've never heard of someone sweating and going unresponsive during a massage," he heard Lina say in a concerned voice. "Thank goodness you're a paramedic. Would you help him?"

A gentle hand rested on Chip's face and he automatically flinched, "Hey, Chippy, it's me," he heard Dale's soft, reassuring voice say. "Can you open your eyes and talk to me? You're scaring me a bit."

Chip sighed shakily and opened his eyes, "I…I don't know what happened," he whispered softly.

"Hey, it's okay," Dale replied gently. "Maybe the back massage was too much for you."

Swallowing hard, Chip nodded, "I'm sorry," he said, gazing at Lina sadly. "Is there something else?"

"Hey, Chip, this doesn't have to happen today if you're not liking being touched," Dale spoke softly.

Chip sighed, "If I can see what's going on, I'll be okay," he replied shakily. "I need to see it."

"How about a foot massage and treatment?" Lina suggested softly. "You'll be able to see that."

Nodding, Chip got up off the massage table and moved over to a comfortable looking recliner-like chair that had a footrest. Dale silently sat in a chair beside him and his mere presence made Chip feel safe enough to sit. Dale's mind was reeling at what he had just seen and his worry over Chip increased.

"Um, I appreciate this, Dale," Chip said in a quiet voice, sighing as he felt his feet being massaged. "I'm sorry I haven't been very good at showing how grateful I am, but I really do appreciate you being here."

Dale sighed, "Chip, please stop apologizing," he replied gently. "You're not a chore that I have to cross off my list of life before I get on with other stuff. You're my brother and I truly do love you a lot, kay?"

"You mean what's left of me, right?" Chip blurted out in a shaky voice. "I…I've lost a lot of who I am…"

Dale sighed patiently and he reached out, giving Chip a smile as he put his hand over his brother's.

* * *

 _ **Mount Sinai Hospital**_

"…Will you stop screwing around and sign the papers so I can get on with a new life for myself, Mark, and Tammy?" Zipper heard an angry voice say as he slowly came back to awareness feeling hungry.

A slap echoed through the air and it prompted Zipper to wake up in alarm, as he knew the sound and hated it after being slapped by Fat Cat and his minions so many times. Wondering what was going on and anxious to help, Zipper silently got himself out of bed and used his IV pole to support himself as he slowly edged across the floor. The effort exhausted him, but he knew someone was in trouble.

From the doorway, he could see a rough looking man in a nice looking business suit holding Gadget against the wall with a firm grip on her arm while a bruise formed on her face, "…I'm not signing them, dearest, so why don't you stop?" Denver Malone said menacingly. "Stop this foolishness, Gina…"

Anxiety filled Zipper and he threw himself at the bigger man with all his might, "What the…?" Denver asked in a stunned voice as the IV pole hit him in the face and he saw Zipper. "Pavel Nikolayev?!"

"Leave ze lady alone," Zipper growled, glaring at Denver. "Zees ees a hospeetal, not ze clubhouse…"

Denver turned away from Gadget, eyeing Pavel with distaste, "Didn't you ever perfect your English, Pavel?" he snapped in a cold voice. "I know you spoke Russian when you had to, but COME ON!"

"Did you newer learn your manners towards ze ladies, Denver?" Pavel snapped. "You had enough of zem in your bed and I know zat because I always made ze beds after you and your prosteetutes…"

Denver's eyes widened in anger and surprise and he lunged, slamming Pavel into the wall with his hands around the younger man's healing throat. Gadget anxiously ducked behind a nearby nurse's station and pressed the Security button, frowning when she suddenly heard the clicking of a gun nearby.

A shocked sputter filled the air and Gadget rose from the desk, horrified when she saw her ex-husband holding a small pistol against Zipper's head with one hand while choking him with the other, "Fat Cat didn't have the guts to kill you, but I do," Denver hissed menacingly. "21 is so very young to die…"

Zipper suddenly kneed Denver in the stomach, forcing the bigger man to release his grip and stumble backwards, dropping the gun in the process. Denver swore and reached for the gun, but Zipper grabbed it first and backed away, scared of what he now held in his hands because he didn't know how to shoot.

"You don't know how to use that!" Denver shouted angrily, glaring at Zipper. "Go play with kiddie toys!"

Zipper hesitated, which gave Denver enough time to get up and lunge at him. Two shots rang out and Denver suddenly keeled over with blood on his chest and a surprised expression on his rugged face.

Trembling anxiously, Zipper dropped the gun with wide eyes and he sank to the floor because he felt weak from being strangled and because he was feeling shaky from low blood sugar. A flood of anxious Russian fled his mouth and he started sobbing, coughing, and vomiting because he didn't feel well.

Gadget came around the desk and a quick look at Denver told her that he was dead, so she stepped over his body and knelt down next to Zipper, "I cannot…breathe vell," Zipper spoke in a hoarse, weak voice.

Security officers suddenly came running and froze at the sight before them, "My ex-husband showed up and attacked me before he attacked Pavel," Gadget said softly. "Pavel shot him in self defense."

As the security officers began to assess the scene, Zipper passed out cold in Gadget's arms.

* * *

 ** _Please read and review!_**


	6. Sudden Role Reversal

_**Three Days Later**_

 _ **Summerville Apartment Condos - Manhattan**_

"Does the condo come furnished?" Chip asked in a quiet voice as he followed a real estate agent through a condo that looked out over Central Park wearing dress shoes, dress pants, a dress shirt, his nicest jacket, and his fedora. "I recently lost my family and I don't want to keep my furniture."

The real estate agent, who Chip knew as Verday Simmons, nodded understandingly, "Detective, that terrible tragedy was all over the news and it still is a little bit," Verday said gently. "It's understandable that you'd want to start over somewhere fresh without reminders. This condo has a few bedrooms, a couple of bathrooms, full kitchen and dining area, full laundry facilities, a fireplace, and a good sized living room and access to both subway and bus stations. The master bathroom includes a Jacuzzi tub…"

"How's the security here?" Chip asked in a concerned voice. "In terms of safety and privacy?"

Verday smiled, "24 hour doormen and security are on call throughout the building," he explained calmly.

Chip silently looked out at the view and sighed; no reminders anywhere of the pain he lost and it was a beautiful apartment. He only hoped he could convince Dale to stick around a while to help him heal.

"Um, can I fill out an application, please?" Chip said in a calm voice. "I like the feel of this condo."

Nodding, Verday led Chip over to a table and opened his briefcase, "Of course," he replied calmly.

Silence filled the condo as Chip filled out the paperwork and he sighed as his cell-phone rang.

* * *

 _ **FDNY Headquarters**_

Dale sighed as he silently sat on a bench in the middle of the foyer, hoping that a suit he borrowed from Chip's closet while getting his laundry from Chip's house would make a good enough impression for him to get hired on as a paramedic with FDNY. The time in Maine had been great until his entire crew had been decimated in the fire that had all but destroyed most of Garden Cove's costal neighborhood; it had killed so many, destroyed so many homes, and had left a permanent scar on the coastline of Maine.

He hadn't told Chip anything about the last several years, about how he was a Lieutenant with that town's squad and oversaw a crew of 30 for nearly five years after being in the crew himself for 10 years after graduating paramedic school and passing the fireman's test. Dale hadn't dared tell Chip that he himself had suffered smoke inhalation and third degree burns to parts of his body three months ago that made certain activities painful. He only hoped that Chip wouldn't find out through the newspapers.

"Dale De La Hoya?" Dale suddenly heard a voice call out as he sat there, lost in painful memories.

Dale looked up and saw a salt and pepper haired man wearing a dress uniform towering over him with a smile on his face, "Deputy Chief Carlos Rodriguez," the man said warmly. "How are you doing?"

"I'm doing alright, sir," Dale replied calmly as he got to his feet and offered his resume folder.

Deputy Chief Rodriguez looked amused, "Lieutenant De La Hoya, really, I don't need to see your resume to know you are an exemplary leader who doesn't believe in leaving men behind even when it means you yourself could possibly die," he said in a calm voice. "I know about your actions during the Garden Cove Fire and I know you lost your whole crew, but that you wouldn't leave them to die alone…"

Dale sighed, "I had hoped it hadn't made the papers here," he replied in a nervous voice.

"How's your rehab going?" Deputy Chief Rodriguez asked calmly. "Can FDNY be of help at all?"

Dale looked around nervously, "Come on, Dale, we can talk in my office," Deputy Chief Rodriguez said.

Once the two were in the office, Dale sat on the couch and Deputy Chief Rodriguez sat behind his desk, "I'm able to use my hands and feet properly again, but they do cramp up if I use them too much," Dale admitted quietly. "I know I've got a ways to go before I can do full-time street duty, but some time at a desk or teaching EMS classes would help my recovery. My legs and chest still hurt, but I'm hoping to find a hospital to help me with that and physical therapy and maybe some respiratory assistance."

"I can definitely get you on a desk and teaching for EMS," Deputy Chief Rodriguez replied calmly. "I can also help you get into physical therapy and counseling. Where exactly are you staying right now?"

Dale sighed, "I came to visit my twin brother, Chip, to figure stuff out and we've been staying at the Plaza so he could get some rest after that accident and having appendicitis," he explained in a calm voice. "He's doing better and looking at a condo today, though, so I don't know where I'm…"

"Talk to your brother," Deputy Chief Rodriguez said calmly. "Give him opportunity to be supportive."

Dale scoffed, "Chip lost his family just a month ago and I don't want to bother him with my problems when he's still getting over his own stuff," he replied calmly, frowning as he suddenly felt pressure in his chest from his still healing burns that had left him with slight lung damage. "Just a second…"

There was silence as Dale reached into his pocket and pulled out an inhaler that he brought along for emergencies, sighing as he used it, "Sorry, it flares up sometimes," he apologized softly. "It's a bit hot out today and I took a cab from Manhattan since I didn't want to pay for parking and sit in traffic."

"Why don't I run you over to an emergency room so you can get better medicine?" Deputy Chief Rodriguez suggested kindly. "We can discuss particulars of the job while you undergo treatment."

Dale nodded, "Thank you," he replied calmly, hoping that Chip would keep busy for most of the day.

* * *

 ** _New York Presbyterian Hospital_**

Pain rocketed through Zipper's body as he woke and slowly sat up, unable to sleep properly for the last several days since he had killed Denver Malone. He had been unconscious for nearly two days with low blood sugar and when he had woken, nobody had said anything about the shooting to him.

"It's good to see you awake," Zipper suddenly heard a gentle voice saying. "How are you feeling?"

Zipper silently looked up and sighed when he saw Detective Jack sitting at his bedside holding a Tupperware container and a milkshake while a bag full of stuff sat on the floor, "Am I under arrest?" he asked in a shaky voice, his eyes filling with tears. "I newer shot a gun before I keeled Denwer…"

"You killed a man in self-defence," Detective Jack replied calmly. "You're not in trouble, but I'm too close to you, so another officer will come by about that. I brought you some clothes, books, and some food."

Sighing, Zipper reached for a case on the portable table and silently put a pair of bifocals on, "Ze doctor helped me to get glasses," he explained in a tired voice. "I don't feel good, but I cannot sleep…"

"Can you eat?" Detective Jack asked softly, offering him the milkshake. "Come on, little Zipper."

Zipper looked surprised, "I guess I am leetle," he spoke softly. "I vill try ze shake for you."

As Detective Jack helped Zipper drink the shake, there was a knock at the door and Detective Jack was stunned to see Chief Richards come into the room with a calm looking Chip, "This guy ain't no Zipper or punk, Chief," Chip said in a confused voice, eyeing Zipper. "I thought you needed me for work?"

"Detective De La Hoya, this is Pavel Nikolayev and he chooses to go by a nickname, which is fine," Chief Richards replied in a calm voice. "Mister Nikolayev has spent the last 10 years as a prisoner of Fat Cat."

Chip frowned and sighed, "You were that 11 year old that went missing?" he asked in a soft voice.

"Yes, sir," Zipper replied softly. "I vas also ze one vho freed you from ze varehouse zat night…"

Chip nodded, "I remember your voice," he replied in a quiet voice. "You said everything would be okay."

Detective Jack got up, but left the milkshake on the table, "Zipper, the chief and I will be right outside while Detective De La Hoya talks to you," he said calmly, intending to ask why Chip was brought in.

Zipper nodded as Chip sat beside the bed, "So, you go by Zipper?" Chip asked in a kind voice.

"Eet vas a neeckname zat my parents gave me because I vas good at ze seweeng of ze clothes ve sold een ze markets," Pavel explained softly. "Fat Cat said eet vas my fault your family vas keeled…"

Chip sighed, "No, it wasn't," he replied softly. "I know you've been through a traumatic experience…"

"I vas sleeping and I heard an argument," Zipper explained quietly. "You are a cop I can trust…"

Chip nodded, feeling bad that this young, heavily traumatized kid couldn't seem to get a break.

* * *

The emergency room was quiet as Detective Jack and Chief Richards silently made their way to the desk, "Is Doctor Hackwrench in?" Detective Jack asked, gazing at the desk clerk. "We need to speak to…"

"Which one?" the desk clerk asked calmly. "We have two that work at this hospital."

Detective Jack sighed, "Both of them are with a patient," the clerk said casually. "Should I beep them?"

Just then, Deputy Chief Rodriguez came down the hallway and sighed when he saw the two officers, "Richards, Jack, what's up?" he said in a casual voice. "I gotta go file some employment paperwork…"

"One of your guys sick again, Carlos?" Monty asked casually. "It's summer, so it's bound to happen."

Deputy Chief Rodriguez sighed, "Come on, Monty, don't go fishing," he said calmly, but firmly. "I got a new guy who wants a fresh start and ended up getting sick during his interview. Burn survivor…"

"Can I help at all?" Monty asked worriedly as he reached for his wallet. "Pay his expenses?"

Deputy Chief Rodriguez sighed, "FDNY will take care of it since the guy's gotta hang around for breathing treatments, new dressings, and new pressure garments anyway," he said calmly. "He was burned in the line of duty like three months ago and he's doing well, but has some asthma and other stuff…"

* * *

Inside the privacy of an exam room, however, Dale was sitting on an exam bed shirtless with his jacket, shirt, and compression garments on a chair; his chest had mild scarring, but looked pink and healthy and his legs also looked pink and healthy, but felt stiff, "I get breathing issues sometimes when I don't get enough sleep and you can imagine that I haven't gotten a good amount of sleep in a few days," Dale explained in a tired voice. "The heat doesn't help either."

"You had third degree burns on your chest, back, hands, legs, and feet three months ago?" Dr. Hackwrench asked in a calm voice as he examined Dale's torso. "I don't think you need the compression garment anymore for your torso, as it looks almost normal and seems to be healthy. Your legs seem to be doing okay too, but you should start doing physio for them. Let me see your feet."

Dale sighed and slowly removed his shoes and pressure socks, revealing scarred ankles and feet. He sighed and began to cough anxiously, the last several days taking a toll on his recovering body.

"I don't like the sound of that cough," Gadget spoke up worriedly. "You say you were in a fire?"

Dale nodded, "I had a crew of about 30 guys and lost em all during the Garden Cove fire in Maine," he replied in a tired voice. "I've been doing my best to rest, but Chip's had a rough few days and…"

"Chip seems to be doing better, I take it?" Dr. Hackwrench said calmly. "Since you were at FDNY?"

Dale sighed, "I thought maybe I could get a job teaching with EMS or doing desk stuff and get out of his hair," he replied softly, sighing as he coughed again. "We went our separate ways after high school and I just don't want to be a burden on him when he's lost his whole family and trying to reinvent himself."

"Well, Dale, you seem to have a fever," Gadget said, gently touching his face. "You feel all right?"

Dale sighed, "I was feeling nauseous this morning, so I had half a bottle of gingerale while Chip was in the shower," he admitted quietly. "I think I might have gotten the flu from taking care of everything."

Gadget sighed and helped Dale put a gown on over his healing torso before gently covering him with a blanket, "You also appear dehydrated," she said gently. "Do you need a pillow for your back?"

"Honestly, I just want a little nap," Dale replied softly as he lay down on the exam bed and slowly began to flex his healing hands and fingers. "The drive from Maine and everything has caught up with me…"

Dr. Hackwrench sighed, knowing that Dale had been running himself ragged taking care of Chip as best he could despite his own need for rest, "I think a nap might help you tremendously and I'll get you some new socks as well as start you on some fluids. Would you also like some medicine for your lungs?"

"Thank you," Dale replied in a tired voice as he closed his eyes. "Anything like that would help."

As Dale slept, Gadget looked at her father, "I'm going to go up and check on Zipper," she said softly.

"Good idea," Dr. Hackwrench replied gently. "See if the police have actually come to talk to him."

Gadget nodded and left the room while Dr. Hackwrench silently put a few IV's in Dale's left arm.

* * *

"…Denwer had heez hands around my sroat and I kneed heem in ze stomach," Zipper explained in a tired voice, taking breaks to drink the shake because he needed it. "He dropped me and ze gun and I peecked it up so he vould not shoot ze doctor. Denwer lunged at me and I pulled ze trigger twice."

Chip nodded and sighed, "That sounds like self-defence to me," he replied in a reassuring voice.

"I passed out after zat," Zipper explained softly. "I vas tired and feeling shaky from eating nozzing."

Chip eyed the cast on Zipper's arm, "Who hurt your arm?" he asked in a concerned voice.

"Fat Cat broke eet before he srew me to ze street," Zipper replied in a tired voice. "Eet vas cold zat night, so I used some money to buy a beeg bottle of wodka to warm me up. Ze summer eez ending…"

Chip looked at the labels on the IV bags and at Zipper's hospital bracelet, "Hypoglycemia, huh?" he commented gently. "Did you know that alcohol overloads a system with sugar so much that the organs can't take the sugar and they react badly? I'm not a doctor, nor am I a psychiatrist, but it seems to me that you're too young and smart to chug vodka til you die even if you did spend 10 years with Fat Cat."

Zipper nodded, unsure of what to say, "You are right, but I vas scared and I do not know anyseeng about ze vorld," he finally replied softly. "I leeved een my leetle village and vas taken when I was just young…"

"And you lived in the Happy Tom Cat Casino for 10 years?" Chip asked in a quiet, kind voice.

Zipper shook his head, "I was forced to peeck ze pockets veeth a handler at feerst and I vas taught to steal, but I vas newer good at eet," he explained quietly. "I vas newer good at being a bad guy."

Chip nodded, knowing Zipper had probably taken a beating for helping him escape from Fat Cat the night he was supposed to die by torture, "I should not dreek anymore, I guess," Zipper said in a quiet, tired voice as Gadget came into the room. "I had a seizure at ze detectiwe's house ven I vas zere…"

"Hi there, Zipper," Gadget said calmly as she came into the room. "Hello there, Detective…"

Chip looked at Gadget calmly, "Detective De La Hoya, ma'am," he replied in a professional voice.

Gadget was silent and frowned, "You're the second guy with that name I've met today," she replied.

Chip gave Gadget a confused look, "There's a De La Hoya in the ER," Gadget explained softly.

"Um, Mister Nikolayev, please get some rest," Chip said anxiously as he quickly stood. "Excuse me."

Ignoring Monty and Chief Richards, Chip speedwalked from the room and took the elevator downstairs as fast as he could. He had already lost a wife and children and now he worried he might also lose Dale too.

As Chip wandered through the ER, his healing abdomen began to ache, but he ignored it, "…I got his employment paperwork filed, so his medical care will be paid for by FDNY insurance," he heard a voice say.

Wondering what was going on with Dale, Chip followed the voice and froze when he saw Dale asleep on a gurney in an exam room in a gown with IV's in his arm while a breathing device that Chip knew was to give medicine to damaged lungs sat in his mouth. Dr. Hackwrench was silently bandaging Dale's feet in dressings and putting special socks on Dale's feet, paying no attention to anything or anyone else. A blanket covered Dale's body

Chip swore and touched the window, "Are you Dale's brother?" he heard a concerned voice ask.

"Deputy Chief Rodriguez, you know I'm his brother just by looking at the two of us" Chip replied as he turned to look at the deputy chief. "What's going on?"

Deputy Chief Rodriguez sighed, "I take it you've never heard of the Garden Cove Fire in Maine and how Lieutenant Dale De La Hoya and his crew of 30 bravely fought the blaze until all of them except for Dale died of burn injuries and/or smoke inhalation?" he said gently. "It happened about three months ago and it's been in the papers."

"Dale…was a burn victim?" Chip asked in a confused voice. "He looks pretty good for being burned."

Deputy Chief Rodriguez nodded, "Unfortunately, Dale's still recovering from scarring and breathing issues that stayed with him after a long stay in a burn unit," he replied softly. "He's exhausted himself into a case of influenza that comes with breathing issues and dehydration. He's being cared for and probably will be here a few days."

Deeply shaken because his need for constant care had put Dale's fragile health at risk, Chip silently entered the room and planted himself in a chair beside the bed, "I applied for this nice condo near the park today and I got approved pretty quickly, so I'll be making arrangements to move," Chip spoke softly, taking Dale's hand and wincing as he felt light scarring. "I was hoping you'd stick around a while and move in with me to help me through the rough patches, but it might also give you a chance to heal from your own trauma. We can help each other…"

Even though Dale could hear Chip talking to him and he liked what was being said, the medicine and sheer exhaustion were keeping him from waking up. He managed to squeeze Chip's hand ever so gently and immediately relaxed when he felt a damp cloth being dabbed on his warm face and forehead; he didn't like not feeling good.

Dr. Hackwrench silently watched in awe as Chip silently talked to Dale and did his best to make him comfortable.

* * *

 _ **Please read and review!**_


	7. Taking Steps Into A New World

_**Two Days Later**_

 _ **Summerville Condo Apartments – Manhattan, New York**_

"It's not much, but you can buy more stuff for your room once you're feeling better," Chip said in a kind voice as he flipped on the light, revealing a large bedroom that had a comfortable bed in it, a simple bedside table, a touch lamp, and a fan in the corner that was running. "I got the stuff at IKEA."

Dale, who was exhausted from walking the short distance from his car to the apartment after Chip had somehow managed to drive it despite his fear of cars, sighed and leaned against the doorway, "You didn't have to do this, Chippy," he said in a tired voice. "You've got to focus on yourself…"

Chip sighed and looked at Dale, who was wearing sweats, a very loose shirt, and sandals along with his pressure socks while his messy hair remained uncombed, "I talked to my chief and he's got guys coming to move what stuff I want in here and the rest is going into storage lockers," he explained gently.

Dale sighed, "Stiff knees," he finally said in a tired voice. "It happens when I've been walking too much."

Chip gave Dale a look and silently put an arm around his waist, "New York's got good treatment options for burn victims and awesome rehab programs," Dale said as Chip helped him to the bed. "The worst part is that my immune system took a beating in the fires and now I'm sick from exhausting myself."

"Just be sick then and rest," Chip said, helping Dale into bed. "I'm well enough to do stuff around the house and you got sick because you threw yourself into making sure I was well taken care of."

Dale rested his head on the pillows and sighed, "What I could carry of your stuff is in the living room and the rest is still in your car," Chip said in a kind voice. "I'm on a lifting restriction for a little while."

"My stomach's starting to freak out on me," Dale said in a pained voice. "Do you have a bucket?"

Chip nodded and passed Dale a bucket that he had brought from the car, "I guess muffins are out for a few days," Dale said before he puked his breakfast into the bucket and sighed. "Sorry."

"Internet's supposed to be hooked up today, but I bought a few things until I can order stuff online," Chip said calmly. "I'll go get you some gingerale for your stomach and some vitamin water."

Dale sighed, but nodded, "Thanks," he replied in a tired voice. "I wish I could be of more help."

Chip took the bucket and covered Dale with a blanket, "Being honest with me would be a great help," he said in a kind, but firm voice. "It's great you wanna help me get over the death of my family, but not to the point where you're going to get sick. I haven't seen you since high school and the first thing I find out about you is that you lost a crew of 30 in a bad fire that wrecked some coastal houses…"

"We got everyone out and we were trapped in this wall of fire because we got every man, woman, and child out of there relatively unharmed," Dale replied quietly. "We ended up having to take the hard way out and I was the only one that got back to the truck. I could hear my guys screaming for me, but I hit the ground and pretty much blacked out after that. The next thing I know, I'm waking up in a hospital burn unit after a month of being on heavy pain meds. Nothing was left of my crew to bury."

Chip sighed and Dale yawned, "I'll get your gingerale and water," Chip spoke softly. "Just rest."

Dale nodded and Chip silently went into the front room. The living room, dining area, and kitchen were empty except for a few of Dale's things that sat in the middle of the living room and a few things that Foxy had brought Chip after Chip had gotten the apartment keys. Chip had not returned to the house since leaving and had relayed instructions to Foxy over the phone about what he wanted with him.

Sighing, Chip silently went into the kitchen and opened the fridge just as the panel buzzed, "Chip, it's Monty," a voice called out. "I'm a little early, but I brought you a little housewarming present."

Smiling, Chip pressed the button that would allow Monty to come in and then quickly got Dale's gingerale and water. He returned to Dale's room and frowned when he saw the bed empty and that the bathroom light was on. Chip entered the adjoining bathroom to find Dale sitting on the edge of the tub with his bare feet in a few feet of a weird mixture of water and something else with his eyes closed.

"Dale?" Chip asked quietly, eyeing the bandages and the socks on the floor. "You all right?"

Dale nodded while keeping his eyes closed, "My feet started hurting from walking up here and so I'm putting them through a saline bath," he replied in a tired voice. "I also took a puff from my inhaler."

A knock at the door kept Chip from speaking and he silently went to the door, opening it to find Monty and Zipper, who was wearing boots, jeans, and a red t-shirt with his casted arm in a sling and his hair done nice while his other hand held his backpack, "I'm looking after Zipper now that he's out of the hospital and he wanted to help, so I brought him along," Monty explained in a cheerful voice.

"Actually, Zipper can help me by keeping Dale company so I can focus on the move," Chip replied.

Zipper looked relieved, but confused, "Who ees Dale?" he asked in a confused voice.

"Dale's my twin brother and younger by like ten minutes," Chip replied kindly. "He's not feeling too well today, so I set up stuff in his bedroom so he can rest. I'd like you to keep him company for a while."

Zipper nodded, but didn't move from his spot, "It's all right, lad," Monty said in a reassuring voice.

Nodding, Zipper moved down the hallway and stood in the doorway of what he assumed was Dale's bedroom, "Hello?" he asked in a quiet voice as he entered the room. "Meester Dale, are you here?"

There was a silence and Dale emerged from the bathroom with fresh socks over his rebandaged feet, "You look like ze detecteeve," Zipper said quietly, eyeing Dale. "He sent me to be of help to you."

Dale gave Zipper a curious look, but nodded and limped over to the bed, where he sat, "Vy do you leemp?" Zipper asked softly, his face filled with concern. "You do not look wery happy…"

"I used to be a firefighter and when I was in this bad fire, my boots melted to my feet and my feet were really damaged," Dale replied softly, giving Zipper a kind look. "How's your arm healing up?"

Zipper sighed patiently, "If you could just stay in the room while I sleep, that would help," Dale replied.

"Of course I can do zat," Zipper replied in a kind voice as he sat on the floor. "I hawe seengs to read."

Dale nodded, lifted his legs on the bed, and slowly allowed himself to drift into a much needed sleep.

* * *

Nearly two hours later, the apartment was looking more homey and Chip silently sat on his new leather couch in his new living room that he had ordered from IKEA because he didn't want his old furniture around anymore, but would handle the donation of it himself. Guys from his precinct came in and out with boxes and food that their wives had sent to Chip claiming that he needed spoiling and fattening.

The cable installer had come and installed both good cable and high-speed internet before leaving to go on another job. Chip was tired from co-ordinating the moving, but he felt at peace and he hadn't felt any sort of peace since before the problems with Nimnul and Fat Cat started. He felt grief over losing his family and was still traumatized over the accident, but a fresh start would make recovery easier.

"How are you doing, Chip?" Monty asked as he came into the room carrying a box in his hands that he set on the newly bought kitchen/dining table. "You haven't said much in the last couple of hours."

Chip sighed softly as his friend and mentor walked over to the couch and sat down, "I've just been going over those bad days in my head and thinking about how much it's changed me," he replied quietly. "Mallard's wife, Morgana, sent over this plethora of food because Drake told her I was too thin."

"You're thin, but I didn't know Morgana could cook?" Detective Jack asked in a surprised voice.

Chip looked amused, "She can't, but she owns a deli that Gosalyn hangs out at after school and Drake eats at constantly cause he can't cook either," he explained. "Gosalyn is a little older than Eden and Drake and Morgana were good to give her a home because they can't have kids of their own…"

"Drake was asking when you're coming back," Detective Jack said. "You're the role model…"

Chip gave his mentor a look, "I'm more than happy to fund Zipper's education, Monty, but please don't call me a role model or a hero," he said firmly. "The true hero's asleep in bed and I hope he's okay."

Monty nodded, "Hey, if you're hungry, help yourself," Chip said as he got up. "I'll be right back."

Chip silently went down the hallway and was confused to see that Dale's bedroom door open, but that Dale was sound asleep in bed while Zipper sat on the floor reading a textbook, "Your brozzer asked me to open ze door," Zipper explained, gazing up at Chip. "He said he deed not vant to feel trapped."

Feeling concerned, Chip went to his bedroom and got an ear thermometer out of his partially set-up bathroom before returning to Dale's room. He silently put the thermometer in Dale's ear.

"Whatcha doing?" Dale asked in a groggy voice, not opening his eyes. "What's in my ear?"

Chip sighed, "I'm taking your temperature," he spoke softly. "What, you hate being touched?"

"You know what Mom and Dad were like to both of us," Dale spoke sleepily. "I'm cold."

Chip nodded as the thermometer beeped and removed it before he covered Dale up, "I'll make you some soup or something light and we'll have a meal," he spoke softly. "Just relax and rest, Dale."

Dale mumbled incoherently, but continued to sleep, "Zipper, would you like a chair?" Chip asked.

"I am all right because I am used to ze floor, sir," Zipper spoke quietly. "Dale asked me to stay…"

Chip frowned, "You should probably go get Detective Jack to make you something to eat so you don't get sick, all right?" he suggested kindly, watching as Zipper got up. "I'll get a chair in here."

* * *

 _ **Mallard's Deli**_

"Mommy, I'm hungry," Mark said in a quiet voice as he clung to his mother's hand while he, his mother, and Tammy walked down the street towards the thrift shop to get them new school and work clothes.

Gadget sighed softly and realized they were in front of a deli, "Okay, Mark, we can go in here," she spoke gently. "Tammy, I know I said we'd get some clothes, but why don't we eat first?"

"I'm hungry, so yeah," Tammy replied quietly, smiling at her mom so she wouldn't be worried.

Gadget nodded and led her children into the diner, surprised to find it quiet, "Hello?" she called out.

There was a silence, "…Drake, be sure to take this fried chicken over there because Detective De La Hoya's clothes are hanging off of him and that's not normal for a guy his age," she heard a voice say.

"I don't think he's too fond of me since I'm in charge of all of his trainees while he's out and I'm not sure what to do with them," Drake Mallard, a dark-haired guy who was wearing loafers, dress pants, and a diamond-pattered sweater, came out into the diner. "Oh, Morgana, there are customers!"

There was a sigh, "Drake, I'm putting more leftovers in boxes," a voice replied. "Can you get it?"

Drake sighed, but smiled at Gadget, "Detective De La Hoya?" Gadget asked quietly. "I read about him."

"Yeah, that thing's still in the newspapers," Drake said in a calm voice. "What can I get you?"

Gadget sighed and scanned the chalkboard menu for something cheap she and her children could share and be filled by until supper, "Oh, you have kids?" Drake asked quietly, eyeing Mark and Tammy.

Nodding, Gadget continued scanning the menu, "Morgana, is Gosalyn up yet?" Drake called out.

"It's Saturday, Drake, so she sleeps in," Morgana called out. "Kids eat free on Saturdays!"

Gadget looked immensely relieved, "You guys can pick whatever you want," she said softly.

As Mark and Tammy were choosing, Morgana, who was a tall, willowy woman in red with her black hair done up in a bun, came out, "Delivery's ready and Chip will be wondering where you are with his stuff," she said in a kind, accented voice. "Get going and I'll wake Gosalyn after I handle this order."

Drake smiled and kissed Morgana's cheek, "Love you," he said, smiling at Gadget as he left.

"Mommy, can I have a hamburger and fries?" Tammy asked softly. "It's been a long time."

Gadget nodded, "And what would you like, Mark?" she asked softly, gazing at her young son.

"Fishies and chips," Mark said quietly, eyeing the food in the display case. "Where's Grandpa?"

Gadget sighed, "Grandpa's working," she replied gently. "We'll meet him at home later on."

"Ma'am, what would you like?" Morgana asked, smiling at Gadget because she looked nervous.

* * *

"Drake's on his way, but you know how traffic is and the others are putting everything else in your storage lockers," Monty said as he hung up the cell phone and eyed the pot of macaroni and cheese that was cooking on the stove while Chip silently made some plates holding food from Mallard's Deli.

Chip nodded calmly as the doorbell box buzzed, "Hey Chip, it's Doctor Hackwrench," a voice called out.

"You got Hackwrench to make a house call?" Detective Jack asked quietly. "Are you feeling all right?"

Chip sighed, pressed the buzzer, and continued what he was doing, "It's for Dale, not me," he replied calmly, sighing as he moved the plates to the table. "Zipper, here's some food for you to eat."

"Senk you," Zipper said as he got up from the couch and went over to the table. "Eet looks good."

Chip smiled, "Drake Mallard and his wife make all the food they sell," he said calmly. "Eat up."

A knock sounded at the door and Chip went over to the door, relieved to see Dr. Hackwrench at the door with a camping backpack when he opened it, "You look healthy, Chip," Dr. Hackwrench said.

"It's my brother, Dale, who's not well, Gerry," Chip explained quietly. "I know you're busy, but…"

Dr. Hackwrench sighed patiently as he came into the condo, "It's fine, Chip," he said kindly.

"Dale's resting in his room," Chip explained as he led his friend down the hallway. "Dale?"

Chip sighed as he entered Dale's room and saw that Dale was still asleep, "Hey, Dale, wake up," he said in a kind voice, smiling when Dale woke. "I called a doctor friend of mine to come look at you."

"Hi," Dale spoke in a tired voice, eyeing the older man. "I remember you from the hospital."

Dr. Hackwrench nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, "I think I have the flu, but Chippy's feeling bad because I got sick taking care of him," Dale said in a tired voice. "I haven't gotten a lot of sleep since I was released from the hospital after being burned and I know that's a bad thing, but it is what it is."

"That will only aggravate your asthma and screw up your healing process," Dr. Hackwrench replied gently as he opened the backpack. "I brought some medicine that I think will help you feel better."

Dale nodded and sighed, "Chip, go have a sleep," he said quietly. "You gotta take it easy too."

"I've been sitting most of the day," Chip spoke gently. "I'm going to go have some food, though."

Deeply worried for his brother, Chip silently left the room and was pleased to see that Zipper had eaten the plate he was given and was also sharing some macaroni and cheese with Monty, "I deed not realize I vas so hungry," Zipper commented softly. "Deetective Jack said zat you vant to pay for my school?"

Chip nodded and quickly fixed himself a light plate before sitting down at the table, "The last education you had was when you were eleven years old and to get any decent job, you need at least a high school diploma," he explained patiently. "If you want, I will pay for you to get assessed to see where you are."

"Vat does zat mean?" Zipper asked quietly, confused by the large word. "Veel eet hurt?"

Chip shook his head, "You'll have to take some tests to see where you're at in terms of your education and once that's done, you can take classes to get your high school diploma if you want to," he explained in a patient voice, feeling compassion for the young man. "Just think about it and let me know, okay?"

Nodding, Zipper silently continued to eat and Chip focused on his own food, relieved to be of help.

Nearly half an hour passed in silence before Dr. Hackwrench came down the hallway helping Dale, who was sporting an IV in one hand, walk in special slippers, "I've done what I can, but I do think eating is the best thing Dale can do right now," he said calmly. "I'll also arrange for a wheelchair to be sent to him."

"A wheelchair?" Chip asked in a concerned voice, frowning as Dale lay down on the couch. "Seriously?"

Dale nodded, but was spared from speaking by the knock at the door, "It's Drake!" a voice called out.

Chip got up and walked over to the door, sighing as he opened it, "Drake, hi," he said warmly. "I…"

Drake smiled as he carried a backpack and bag of food in, but he froze upon seeing Dale, "I never thought I'd be in the presence of a hero," he said in an awed voice. "To think that you're in New York!"

Dale suddenly looked really uncomfortable and tired, so he simply closed his eyes to rest, "Drake, can you please not spread it around that Dale's here?" Chip asked gently. "He's been through a lot."

Nodding, Drake handed Chip the grocery bag and set the backpack on the floor as Dr. Hackwrench silently excused himself from the apartment, "I gotta get back," Drake said anxiously. "See ya."

Chip closed the door and eyed the sleeping Dale worriedly before he went back into the kitchen.

* * *

 ** _Please read and review!_**


	8. Time Creates Many Wounds

**_Three Days Later_**

 ** _Central Park, New York_**

"I appreciate you coming with me out on a walk this early, Dale," Chip said in a calm voice as he strode down the path into the section of the park that was closest to their condo. "I need to get back in shape."

There was silence and Chip turned to see Dale sitting on a bench looking tired and uncomfortable, "I should have slept for another hour after working til 11 last night at FDNY," Dale said in a tired voice, sighing as he massaged the knees of his sweat pants. "I only did paperwork for teaching, but still…"

"You do realize that could have waited until today?" Chip asked sternly. "Why'd you work so late?"

Dale gave Chip a look, "Old habits," he replied calmly. "When are you taking Zipper for his testing?"

"Like around 11?" Chip replied calmly. "Dale, you're deflecting. I'm a detective, remember?"

Dale shrugged, "Did you know there's a 24 hour café near your building?" he asked softly. "It has music and a reading corner as well as great tea. I got off the subway and then just spent some time there figuring out where I'm going to go when you get tired of me. I can't keep mooching off of you."

Chip frowned and sat on the bench, "Dale, you're my brother and you being here has helped me in so many ways," he replied quietly. "Why on earth would you think you're mooching off of me?"

"You've got a life here and I'm making you put it on hold," Dale spoke in a nervous voice.

Chip sighed, "My life's been on hold because my family died," he replied gently. "Not because of you."

Dale looked up at the sky, "I know Mom and Dad used to blame you for everything bad that happened because they thought that you were a mistake, Dale, but I'm not like them," Chip spoke gently.

"I know that," Dale replied quietly even though he didn't look convinced. "Self-esteem issues."

Chip nodded, "I was actually hoping you'd stay forever," he said softly. "I miss my brother."

Dale looked at him quizzically, "I was so desperate to get out of California after I graduated high school that I forgot about you," Chip spoke softly, his eyes sad. "I was just so selfishly focused on myself."

"Chip, please, that's the past," Dale spoke quietly, his expression tired. "If you must know, I spent some time on the street and pawning things from junkyards before I managed to get out of California to the cheapest place I could go on the bus. I think I ended up in a little town called Spoonerville in Ohio."

Chip nodded, "I went to school there after this car guy I got a job with saw that I could do better than washing cars," Dale spoke quietly, his voice tiring. "Chip, I think I'm going to head back to the condo."

"Did you want me to go with you?" Chip asked in a concerned voice. "I can finish my walk later."

Dale shrugged as he stood up and Chip nodded, smiling at his brother as they turned back the way they had come. Dale, however, looked incredibly sad and lost as if he wasn't sure of his place in the world.

"Dale, what's wrong?" Chip asked softly as they reached the crosswalk. "You look really sad."

Dale didn't say anything, nor did he offer a smile the entire walk back to their condo apartment, "You're going to think me nuts," he finally said once they were inside. "I take night shifts so I don't sleep."

Chip's eyes narrowed, "Sleep's the way you stay healthy, though," he replied in a worried voice.

"I've had night terrors about the fire since I was released from hospital," Dale spoke quietly. "I do my best not to sleep at night since I've been here so your recovery wouldn't be disrupted, but then I got sick and was sleeping most of the time. I'm really not sure what to do about it, but I'm not making it up."

Chip scowled, "Dale, did I say you were?" he asked firmly. "Have you been to a doctor about it?"

"That Hackwrench guy knows about it and he wrote me a prescription for sleeping medicine, but I don't want to become dependent on drugs," Dale replied softly. "You know what Mom and Dad were like because Mom went on pain pills after we were born and ended up addicted to them and Dad was…"

Dale's legs suddenly gave out and Chip quickly helped his brother sit on the couch, "You're going to have some breakfast and then you're going to bed," Chip said firmly. "Keep this up and you'll be sick again."

"I'm scheduled for a day shift tomorrow," Dale spoke softly. "I'll start teaching in September, so I'm mostly preparing lesson plans and doing paperwork stuff that gets crazy neglected all the time."

Chip nodded and got a bottle of juice, a cup of yogurt from the fridge, and a spoon which he brought over to Dale so he could stay sitting, "I'll go grocery shopping while Zipper's doing his tests and I'll have food delivered," he said calmly, watching as Dale ate. "Do you want anything in particular?"

"Chippy, when you live on the street, you're grateful for any food at all," Dale replied quietly.

Giving Dale a look, Chip sat on the couch and collected the dishes when Dale was done eating, "Do you want anything else?" Chip asked kindly. "I was gonna eat some breakfast sandwiches that I got."

"Maybe some more juice, but I haven't really eaten much for meals since the fire," Dale spoke quietly.

Chip sighed, "Do you want to talk about what it was like recovering?" he asked in a kind voice.

"Not particularly because I don't want to upset you," Dale replied quietly. "It's not something…"

Chip silently threw the trash away, "I've mostly lived on applesauce, pudding, and yogurt since the fire because it's cheap," Dale spoke softly. "Maybe after I've worked a couple of months, I can pay off the credit card I used to pay for your rest at the Plaza. I think FDNY pay is enough to cover rent…"

"Dale, will you knock it off about the rent, please?" Chip asked kindly. "Half of the family trust is yours since Mom and Dad lost all their rights to it being in prison. It became ours when we turned 21."

Dale frowned, "Chip, the trust can't be that much," he replied softly. "How did they not spend it?"

"The trust has been gaining interest in the bank ever since Mom and Dad went to jail and we went to foster homes," Chip replied calmly. "I used a bit of it to take care of my family, but most of it's still there and it's easily millions of dollars. Half of it's legally yours; you just have to go sign for it at my bank."

Dale scowled, "What would I do with half the trust?" he asked harshly. "I don't even care about it and it's probably got some ridiculous condition that I have to go visit our parents in prison when I don't…!"

Chip's eyes widened as Dale slowly got up off the couch and gingerly walked into his bedroom, slamming his door as he did so. Stunned speechless by Dale's anger, Chip got up and began to see what they needed in the way of dishes and other things since he had sent most of those things to storage lockers.

* * *

On the other side of Manhattan, Zipper sat quietly in the room he had been living in ever since Detective Jack had gotten him off the street and out of the hospital. Detective Jack had been to and from work and had given Zipper a key and left money if he wanted to go places, but Zipper had simply stayed there.

The red t-shirt and jeans were a comfort to Zipper and they were his only clothes, as he was scared to admit that he didn't know where to go to get clothes and other things for himself. During the 10 years he was in captivity, he had worn whatever had been stolen off trucks or whatever he could sew quickly enough to wear before Fat Cat caught him. Fat Cat had thought sewing his own clothes was a sissy sport.

Sighing softly, Zipper stood up and silently went into the kitchen because his arm hurt and he needed to eat so that he would be healthy for his tests. Detective Jack was asleep in the privacy of his bedroom after working a nightshift to cover for a sick colleague and Zipper figured that he was also hungry.

Despite having only the use of one arm, Zipper managed to get some eggs, bacon, and bread out of the fridge and pantry. He knew how to cook basic things thanks to his parents teaching him how to cook food that they sold at their market stalls and he knew that Detective Jack deserved a thank you.

Within 15 minutes, bacon and eggs were cooking in fry pans on the stove and toast was in the four-slot toaster that was on the counter. Zipper's casted arm ached, but he ignored it and used his good arm to put a plate, glass, and silverware on the table. He did not intend to eat until after Detective Jack did.

Soon enough, the food was cooked and Zipper had managed to put some out for Detective Jack and had only left morsels for himself in the cooling pans after turning the stove off because it wasn't his house or his food and he had no right to eat or do whatever he wanted there. Hoping that his older roommate would like the food, Zipper quietly returned to his bedroom and sat on his bed with a school book.

Exhaustion quickly hit Zipper and he lay back down in his unmade bed, setting his book back on the bedside table to read later. He silently closed his eyes and allowed himself a little more rest.

What seemed like an eternity later, Detective Jack came into the kitchen wearing sleep pants and a t-shirt and froze at seeing the heaping plate of food on the table while only scraps remained in the pans, as if Zipper had cooked, but was afraid to eat. Silently reminding himself that Zipper was still learning what freedom meant, Monty silently got another plate and put half the food from his plate on to it.

Curious as to where his new little buddy had gotten to after making breakfast, Monty silently wandered through the small townhouse and smiled sadly when he saw Zipper in bed. He knew that Zipper hadn't left the house since being released from the hospital and most likely had a fear of being out in public.

"Hey there, Zipper lad, are you hungry?" Monty asked gently, coming over to the bed. "Zipper…"

Zipper sighed sleepily and opened his eyes, "Come eat breakfast with me and then I'll help you get ready for your tests," Monty said kindly. "Thank you for making breakfast, but it's too much for me alone."

"I am allowed to eat your food?" Pavel asked in a quiet voice. "I deed not know zat vas allowed."

Monty nodded and Pavel got out of bed, "Leave the bed and come on," Monty said encouragingly.

Pavel did as he was told, "If you get hungry, eat," Monty said as they sat at the table. "You have to eat because of your hypoglycemia and I don't want to come home and find you passed out on the floor."

"Okay," Zipper replied quietly, sighing as he silently began to eat some of the food that he had cooked.

"Dale, I'm getting ready to head out!" Chip called out as he put his jacket and fedora on before grabbing his personal mini-pack that contained water, his wallet, and a book. "Do you need anything?"

Dale's bedroom door opened and Chip was surprised to see that Dale was wearing sweats, a black Hawaiian shirt with white flowers all over it, and his special shoes, "I've got things to do anyway, so I'll simply go shopping if I need anything," Dale replied firmly. "Zipper's counting on you to get him."

Chip looked mystified, "Dale, are you angry at me?" he asked in a worried voice. "I didn't mean…"

"I'm not angry with you, Chip," Dale replied quietly. "I don't have a cell phone, so I'll simply see you whenever I get back to the apartment. Tell Zipper good luck today and thank Drake for the food."

Chip nodded and watched as Dale silently left, obviously troubled by something and unwilling to share his feelings. Intending to talk to his brother later on, Chip gathered his things and silently left.

* * *

 _ **Mount Sinai Hospital**_

"You're right, Dale," Dr. Hackwrench said in a concerned voice as he examined Dale's left foot, which was sporting blackish color on a couple of his toes. "Those toes aren't healing at all; they're dying."

Dale sighed, "I was warned about that," he replied sadly as he lay on a gurney with his shoes off.

"Your right foot seems to be healing nicely, but it just needs to be redressed," Dr. Hackwrench explained, eyeing Dale's wrapped right foot. "Those dead toes will need to be amputated _today_."

Dale nodded, "I got rid of my cell-phone after I got out of the hospital in Maine, but I guess I should call Chip somehow and tell him what's going on," he said quietly. "I think he's got a cell-phone…"

"I've known Chip for years and his number's in my phone," Dr. Hackwrench replied. "I'll go get it."

Dale sighed, but didn't protest and took the cell-phone, staying quiet as he found Chip's number and pressed the CALL button, " _Hello_?" he heard Chip's pleasant voice ask. " _This is Chip De La Hoya_."

"Hey, Chip, I'm not going to be home tonight," Dale spoke, his voice trembling with anxiety.

There was a silence and Dale pushed the phone away as tears filled his eyes, as he was overwhelmed with the thought of losing toes and didn't know how to explain it. Dr. Hackwrench calmly took the phone and continued the conversation as Dale lay there with his eyes closed, deep in thought.

* * *

 _ **Tendara Educational Facility**_

"Mommy, is this where we're gonna go to school?" Tammy asked softly as she and Mark walked with Gadget, who was wearing white shoes and purple scrubs, down the hallway from one of the classrooms.

Gadget smiled, "Yes," she replied, grateful that her father had paid their tuition for the year. "I want you and your brother to go to a safe school. You'll be able to have the best of everything going here."

Mark's eyes went wide and Tammy nodded, both of them looking around eagerly as they followed their mother through the school. Gadget, however, had suddenly spotted Chip lingering near the area that she knew was used for placement testing and adult education, "Detective," she called out kindly.

Chip looked away from the bulletin board he was studying and nodded politely at Gadget and her young children, "What brings you here?" Gadget asked kindly. "I didn't know you had any children?"

"I don't, ma'am," Chip replied quietly. "I used to, but they and my wife were killed in a car wreck…"

Gadget's eyes widened in shock, "I'm sorry," she apologized softly. "I hope my question didn't offend…"

"No," Chip replied quietly, uneasy remembering the accident. "I'm here today with Zipper…"

Gadget smiled curiously, "You mean Zipper's going for an education, then?" she asked kindly.

Chip nodded and checked his phone, "We've been here about an hour," he replied calmly.

Before Gadget could reply, Zipper came out into the hallway running a hand through his curly hair and wearing an anxious expression on his face, "I do not know eef I deed so good," Zipper said quietly. "I know lots of ze maths and ze languages, but I hawe not read a lot of books seence I vas 11…"

"It's okay," Chip replied encouragingly. "Did you get all of the testing done in an hour?"

Zipper nodded, "Eet vas quiet, so eet vas easy to get zrough vat I understood queeckly," he replied in a nervous voice. "I feel so bad because vat I deed know I know from doing bad seeings for Fat Cat…"

Gadget frowned at the mention of Fat Cat, but Zipper was trembling and she quickly switched into doctor mode as he sat down on a nearby bench, "Are you all right?" she asked in a kind voice.

"Oh, yes, zees are nerwous shakes," Zipper replied softly. "Zey vill go avay een a meenute."

Chip sighed, "Zipper, I have an errand to run," he said calmly. "Would you like to come with me? That way, you can learn how to get around the area if you ever have to do something by yourself."

"Da, zat vould be wery nice," Zipper replied eagerly. "I do not know much of anyseeing proper."

Chip nodded and left, prompting Zipper to smile at Gadget, Mark, and Tammy before following him.

* * *

 _ **Mount Sinai Hospital**_

The clock ticked mercilessly as Chip sat in the waiting room with Zipper, who was reading a magazine to try and improve his understanding of English, to await news on Dale. By the time they had gotten a taxi from the learning center and got to the hospital through heavy traffic, Dale had been taken to surgery to get his toes amputated.

Wanting to stay at the hospital for as long as he would be allowed, Chip had called Foxy and quietly asked her to go by the apartment and get things for Dale. Since moving, Chip hadn't had a need for a housekeeper, but he kept Foxy on a monthly salary simply because he knew she needed the income. Zipper had offered to help, but Chip had told him to rest his arm and take it easy for the rest of the day because he had worked hard on his school testing.

As Chip sat there, Dr. Hackwrench came into the waiting room with a chart full of all of the information on Dale's condition that he wouldn't normally share with anyone, but he knew that Chip was desperate to be in-the-know about Dale's issues so he could be of help, "How's Dale?" Chip asked anxiously.

"Dale's going to be losing two of his small toes on his left foot because they are considered dead and it's not his fault; it's an aftereffect of the fire," Dr. Hackwrench explained gently as he sat down and showed Chip the scans and other information on Dale's chart. "It's important that the toes are removed before it gets any worse, as the gangrene could spread to other parts of Dale's body and make him even sicker."

Chip nodded, his expression grim, "Why didn't Dale tell me?" he asked crossly. "I could have helped."

"Chip, Dale is very much like you in that he is very stubborn and refuses to show his emotional side," Dr. Hackwrench spoke gently. "The best way you can help is to be there for him as he recovers from this."

Chip sighed softly, "I can do that, but I don't know much about this type of injury," he replied softly.

"Dale will probably have to spend a few days in the hospital after the surgery under close monitoring just because his body is still healing from the fires," Dr. Hackwrench replied. "You'll figure out what he needs, don't worry."

Chip nodded, determined to be there and lovingly support Dale just like Dale had been there to support and love him.

* * *

 _ **Please read and review!**_


	9. Learning From Eachother

_**Three Days Later**_

 _ **Mount Sinai Hospital – Manhattan, New York**_

Exhausted and feeling sore from surgery, Dale opened his eyes and gazed at the surgical boot on his left foot that was covering his healing alterations. The amputation had gone smoothly, but the surgery had been a painful reminder that a full recovery would possibly take years to happen, if it ever did.

Because he hadn't reacted well to the anesthesia, the surgeon had elected to keep him in the hospital longer to be on fluids and medicine for his lungs as a precaution. After spending time in the burn unit, Dale had grown to dislike the hospital, but he also wanted to recover, so he wasn't complaining. He was grateful that the hospital had let him wear sweats and a loose shirt instead of a flimsy hospital gown.

The sight of Chip sleeping on the couch in the private hospital room prompted Dale to smile, as Chip had rarely left his side since he had woken after surgery and it was nice to know someone cared. Not wanting to wake his brother up, Dale silently got himself a glass of water using the pitcher and cups that had been left on the portable table within reach. As Dale drank some water, Chip slowly began to stir.

"Hey there, Chippy," Dale spoke quietly as Chip opened his eyes. "How are you feeling?"

Chip gave Dale a confused look, "You just had two toes amputated and you're in the hospital recovering from the surgery and a bad reaction to the anesthesia and you ask how I'm feeling?" he asked in a surprised voice as he sat up and folded the blanket he had slept under last night. "You're a saint."

Sighing, Dale finished the water, "When are you going back to work?" he asked in a tired voice.

Chip looked surprised, but Dale gave him a kind look, "I honestly don't know how much longer they're going to keep me here and you need to go back to work so you don't get bored," Dale said gently.

"I'm doing some work from home already, but I don't have to go back to my precinct until I feel ready to," Chip replied calmly as he got up and walked over to the bed. "Did you want to try walking?"

Dale nodded and slowly got out of bed, clinging to his IV pole for support as he stood up and gingerly put weight on his left heel before taking a few slow steps. Chip grabbed hold of him to steady him.

"I'm starting to feel icky again, so I should go back to bed," Dale spoke in a quiet, tired voice.

Chip nodded and helped Dale back to bed, "Do you want me to bring some of your stuff so you're not bored?" Chip asked calmly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Your car's in the apartment parkade."

"I really don't have a lot of stuff," Dale replied quietly. "I have a list of stuff I want to buy eventually…"

Chip sighed, "Do you want some puzzle books from the gift shop?" he asked quietly.

"No, but I wouldn't mind a novel and a cute nurse to read a bit to me," Dale asked slyly.

Chip smirked, "Dale, you aren't gonna have any trouble getting a woman with your looks and charm," he replied in an amused voice. "I can get Monty to go clubbing with you if you want, but I'm not…"

"Chip, c'mon, I'm missing toes and women don't go for that," Dale replied quietly, his brief smile quickly fading away as fast as it had materialized. "I had a fiancé at one point, but it didn't work out."

Chip frowned, but didn't speak right away, "Was it because of the fires?" he finally asked.

"There was a point that doctors thought I might lose full limbs because of the burns," Dale replied in a quiet, subdued voice because he knew he had to be honest with his brother. "I had just gotten engaged to this fisherwoman when the fires hit and she was evacuated, but I stayed behind with my crew. When I woke up, I found a note by her saying that she couldn't support a cripple and she had left the ring…"

Chip nodded, "Um, to be honest, this is not my favorite place to be," Dale continued calmly.

"Well, it's a good thing you're well enough to get out of here, isn't it?" Dr. Hackwrench said kindly, having overheard Dale's comment as he came into the room pushing an empty wheelchair that had a blanket in it. "I don't see any reason why you have to stay here any longer, but I would like you to take it easy for a couple of weeks, which means minimal walking and assistance with bathroom visits."

Dale nodded, but kept surprisingly quiet as Dr. Hackwrench removed his IV's and helped him into the wheelchair, "You look good in those sweats and shirt," Dr. Hackwrench said calmly. "Comfy?"

"I think my sandal is under the bed," Dale spoke quietly. "Chip, can you please grab it?"

Chip quickly retrieved the sandal and Dale's box of personal items from under the gurney. Dale sighed and kept quiet as he was wheeled out of the hospital, watching as Chip quickly hailed a cab.

Dr. Hackwrench gently patted Dale's arm, "I'll come by in a few days to check on you since I know you're not fond of hospitals," he said gently, figuring that the young man had been through terrible pain.

"Thank you," Dale replied as he slowly got into the cab. "Thank you for being such a good doctor."

Dr. Hackwrench nodded and watched Chip get into the cab before turning back to the hospital.

* * *

 _ **Summerville Condo Apartments**_

Soon enough, Chip and Dale made it back to the apartment and Dale immediately lay down on the couch, exhausted from the walk upstairs. Chip, however, quietly straightened up the place.

"Why are you cleaning?" Dale asked in a tired voice. "If you're having friends over, I can go…"

Chip scoffed, "I gave Foxy some money and asked her to go get you a wheelchair and some clothes because yours are all worn out," he replied calmly. "And a few books since I know you like reading."

"Because I was reading my way through the hospital library cart?" Dale asked in a tired voice.

Chip smiled, "Yeah," he replied in a calm voice. "Are you hungry? I filled the place with groceries."

"Almost all of the nurses gave me heck over my being so thin and barely eating anything," Dale replied in a tired voice. "I need to start gaining weight back, but I do not want to make myself sick doing it."

Chip nodded, "Would chicken and quinoa salad work along with some cranberry juice?" he asked.

"Can you cook stuff like that?" Dale asked quietly as the door shook. "Quinoa's pretty precise…"

Chip looked amused as the door opened and Foxy came in pushing a wheelchair that contained two shopping bags, "I can cook pretty well," he replied gently. "Oh, hey there, Foxy. How are you?"

Foxy, however, eyed Dale before giving Chip a concerned look, "I got everything," she replied softly. "I was wondering if you'd mind if I started going back to school to finish my degree since you don't have a large house that needs housekeeping anymore. I don't mind helping you with errands, but…"

"I know you've wanted to be a nurse forever, so go ahead," Chip replied calmly. "It's fine."

Foxy smiled, "I've only got another year," she replied in a pleasant voice. "Do you need anything else?"

Chip silently pulled his wallet from his pocket and extracted a small collection of twenties, "Get school supplies for yourself and school things for Dustin," he replied softly, offering Foxy the money.

"Thank you, Chip," Foxy replied softly. "Since Jake was killed in action, it gets hard sometimes…"

Chip nodded, "That's why I hired you," he replied calmly. "Thanks for getting stuff for Dale."

Foxy nodded and suddenly smiled, "I think Dale's asleep," she said in a quiet voice.

Chip turned his head and saw that Dale was asleep on the couch, "Hey, Chip, you and Dale are welcome to come to the summer fair that's happening later," Foxy spoke in a kind voice. "It's at Central Park."

"That sounds like fun," Chip replied in a pleasant voice. "I might come, but I won't speak for Dale…"

Nodding, Foxy silently left the apartment and Chip silently turned his attention to the kitchen, knowing that Dale would be hungry when he woke up and knowing he also had to eat in order to build strength.

* * *

Several blocks away, Gadget silently lingered in front of the headstone where she had arranged for Denver to be buried, as his parents were dead and she felt responsible. Mark and Tammy were playing with Gosalyn in the apartment above Mallard's Deli where Drake, Morgana, and Gosalyn lived.

Letting out a sigh, Gadget turned away from the headstone and gave Detective Jack and Zipper a grateful look, "You didn't have to come with me," she said quietly. "Half your patrol's parked out there."

"Simon and me boys want to make sure you weren't disturbed," Monty replied reassuringly.

Zipper sighed, "He vas going to keel you and you are zo nice zat I felt I vanted to protect you," he spoke in a shaky voice, his eyes somber and tired. "Fat Cat deed not teach me much good, but he got wery, wery mad ven he saw ze goons mistreateeng vomen. He deed not like zem hawing scars or bruises."

Gadget responded by giving Zipper a hug, "Women were his showpieces, but you wanted to protect me and it's a good thing you did," she replied in a gentle voice. "Do you know how your testing went?"

"I do not know yet," Zipper replied quietly. "Zey vill call Detectiwe Jack's cell phone or send a letter to his house ven zey know for sure how smart I am. I gawe zem zat information seence I stay zere."

Gadget nodded and eyed Zipper's clothes, "Do you have any clothes for school yet?" she asked softly.

"I need to find a job to earn ze money for zem," Zipper replied quietly. "Or for ze sewing seengs."

There was a silence and Zipper's head suddenly turned as he noticed something out of the corner of his eye, "…Vat, you zeenk zat Fat Cat has forgotten you?" a dark-haired man wearing black asked as he sauntered into the cemetery through a side entrance. "He knows zat your blood needs to be spilt for geeting Neemnul locked avay in ze asylum. He knows zat you talked to ze police and eez angry…"

Gadget paled, but she shielded Zipper and Monty quickly got between them and the new arrival, "Enjoy your holeeday from Fat Cat, you rat!" the man hissed as he backed away. "Eet vill be your last!"

Monty swore and chased after the man as he ran off while Gadget silently turned and held Zipper tight, but Zipper did not cry because he wanted to look brave for Gadget. Shouting filled the air and Monty quickly returned, clearly out of breath from running, and saw that Gadget and Zipper were hugging.

"They're dealing with him," Monty explained breathlessly. "Hey, do you like fairs in Central Park?"

Gadget looked slightly confused, but Zipper shrugged, "I think we could all use a walk and I know there's a summer fair going on all day in Central Park that Zipper might enjoy," Monty said calmly. "Will you…?"

"Tammy and Mark are at a friend's, so I don't mind coming with you," Gadget replied quietly.

Zipper looked confused, "Vat eez a fair?" he asked in a quiet voice. "I hawe newer heard of zat."

As Monty led Zipper and Gadget out of the cemetery, he tried to explain what exactly a fair was.

* * *

 ** _Summerville Condo Apartments_**

 _Dear Detective De La Hoya,_

 _We still have the bodies of your family members at the morgue and you are free to take your time burying them, but in case you are undecided on funeral arrangements, we have provided a list of reputable funeral homes in the area that can assist in you in planning. We again offer condolences…_

Chip sighed softly as he skimmed the list of funeral homes that had been included in the email that the crime lab's morgue had sent him a few days ago; the bodies had sat in the city morgue carefully preserved because he had been too injured to deal with them and Donna had no family alive to deal with them. He hated people apologizing for his family's death, as it was still so very fresh to him.

Now that he was well enough to think clearly, Chip knew he would need to arrange the funeral and burials as quickly and quietly as possible so he could get on with his life. As he skimmed the email, he suddenly heard a faint whimper followed by anxious gasping and uncontrollable coughing.

Frowning, Chip turned and his eyes widened when he saw Dale trembling on the couch while whimpering and gasping for breath, "DALE!" he shouted, quickly getting up. "Dale, wake up!"

Dale's eyes popped open and he sat up in a frenzy, breathing hard as he stared at Chip, "I…sorry," Dale said in an anxious voice, quickly calming. "I…I shouldn't have had a nap; it triggered a nightmare."

Nodding, Chip silently closed his email and got up, "I made the food while you were sleeping," he said calmly, giving Dale the opportunity to open up on his own. "If you're hungry, it's on the table."

Dale sighed softly and wiped the sweat off his face before getting up, "I hope this means you're going to start taking sleeping pills at night," Chip spoke calmly as Dale slowly moved to the table and sat in front of one of the plates of food that was there. "I can't force you to do anything, but it would be a good…"

"You're dressed up," Dale spoke, eyeing Chip's khakis and collared shirt. "Do you have a hot date?"

Chip shook his head, but offered a smile, "Foxy said there's a summer fair going on in Central Park today and said we'd be welcome to go over there," he replied calmly. "I was wondering if you wanted to go."

"I'm supposed to stay off my foot," Dale replied quietly, frowning as he suddenly noticed the wheelchair filled with shopping bags sitting in the living room. "That wasn't here earlier. Who brought that by?"

Chip smiled, "I asked Foxy to get you some clothes and a wheelchair so you could go around the city if you wanted to," he replied gently, watching as Dale slowly ate. "Your clothes have holes in them."

"This is good," Dale replied. "Quinoa and chicken strips should be enough for my stomach right now."

Chip nodded, "I guess I could manage a fair," Dale spoke quietly as he finished the plate. "Thank you."

Sighing, Chip watched Dale get up and quietly clean up his dishes before taking the shopping bags through the apartment to his bedroom. A few moments later, Dale returned wearing a dark red Hawaiian shirt that sported small yellow flowers, the same sweats he had been wearing, and a shoe-like slipper over his sock. Under the Hawaiian shirt, Dale was wearing a white, long-sleeved undershirt.

"My skin's feeling a bit sensitive today, so I decided to wear something under the Hawaiian shirt," Dale spoke quietly, worried that Chip was judging his clothes. "It's probably from all the IV lines and stuff."

Chip smiled, "You look great," he replied encouragingly. "I put our wallets, your inhalers, some sunscreen, and some water bottles in a bag after Foxy left. The park's really not far from here, but we can take our time going over there. We don't even have to stay very long if you don't want to."

Dale nodded and got into the wheelchair, wincing as he lifted his surgical boot on to the footrest, "Since I'm chauffeuring you, you can hold this in your lap," Chip said, depositing the bag in Dale's lap.

* * *

 ** _Central Park_**

"Zees eez a fair?" Zipper asked quietly as he followed Monty and Gadget into the park and saw the many booths scattered throughout the park selling food, offering games, and selling souvenirs. "Eet eez wery noisy and reminds me a beet of ze markets I used to vork at veeth my parents ven I was a boy."

Gadget looked thoughtful, but Monty's attention was on the stall that was selling food that included cheese, "Ah, I'm a bit hungry," Monty said as he sauntered over to the booth. "I need cheese…"

Zipper looked amused as Monty ordered and got served a dish of fries heaped with chili and cheese, "He eats cheese on eweryseeng," Zipper said, gazing at Gadget while Monty chowed down. "Eet eez funny."

Gadget smiled, amused by Monty's antics more so because she had known him for years due to him and her father being lifelong friends. As she waited for Monty to finish his food, she looked around at the fair to see what she could get Zipper to enjoy, she noticed a fedora-wearing Chip enter the park pushing Dale, who was sitting in a wheelchair holding a backpack. They were talking quietly to each other.

"Zipper, me lad, come here and try these cheese and chili fries," Gadget heard Monty suddenly say.

Since Zipper was now occupied by the food-loving Monty, Gadget wandered through the crowd just in time to see Chip park the wheelchair beside a bench and sit down, "…I think they sell lemonades somewhere here," Chip was saying in a kind voice. "I've never been to this fair, so I don't know…"

"Chip, it's all right," Dale replied in a calm voice, offering a smile. "I'm just happy sitting here."

Gadget smiled as she approached them, "Hi there, Detective," she said kindly. "Dale…"

"Hello there," Chip replied calmly, smiling at Gadget. "Did you bring your kids to the fair?"

Gadget shook her head, "Mark and Tammy are hanging out with Gosalyn, but I'm here with Detective Jack and Zipper," she replied, not wanting to share the trouble she had at the cemetery. "How are you?"

"I'm good," Chip replied in a kind voice. "I thought I'd show Dale some of the neighborhood."

Dale sighed patiently, "Chip, if you want to explore the fair, I'm fine here," he replied in a kind voice.

"Mostly looks like food and games," Chip replied, not wanting to leave his brother alone in the heat.

Gadget chuckled as she suddenly noticed Zipper trying to make sense of a stick of cotton candy while Monty talked him through it, "Oh, poor Zipper," she said calmly. "He's trying to eat some cotton candy."

"Well, I suppose Monty is trying to help Zipper make up for all that he missed in 10 years of being under Fat Cat's control," Chip replied in a concerned voice. "I'm sure he was controlled and abused by him."

Gadget nodded, thinking of how she had endured a great deal of her own abuse because she had to endure Denver living under Fat Cat's fist. She had point blank refused to let him involve Mark or Tammy in Fat Cat's gang and had often taken beatings and verbal assaults for trying to keep her kids safe. It wasn't something she wanted to tell Chip, however, as Chip had lost his family courtesy of Fat Cat and every article she had seen on the accident had made it very clear that Fat Cat was a ruthless killer.

As Gadget figured out what to say, however, a skinny reported darted through the crowd and made a beeline for Chip and Dale. Nervous that he was going to be asked questions about the accident, Chip lowered his face, but frowned when the reporter turned and quickly made a beeline for Zipper.

Chip, Dale, and Gadget watched as the reporter talked animatedly to Zipper, deeply surprised when Zipper pushed through the crowd and went towards the exit, "I do not vant to talk about zat!" Zipper snapped in an anxious voice as he quickly hid behind Gadget. "Eet vas a wery bad seeng I deed!"

"What's going on?" Chip asked in a stern voice as he got up and stood in front of the reporter.

The reporter eyed Chip warily, "Detective De La Hoya, really, the whole city is very much aware that gangster Denver Malone was murdered!" he replied anxiously. "The police is required to release it!"

"It was self defense!" Gadget snapped anxiously, glaring at the reporter. "Can you please go away?"

It was then that the reporter noticed Dale, "Lieutenant De La Hoya of the Rescue Department in Arrowroot, Maine, right?" he asked in an enthusiastic voice. "Would you let me interview you? You're a national hero!"

Zipper's eyes widened, Gadget looked confused, but Chip looked angry, "Excuse me, don't you have anything better to do?" Chip snapped, blocking the reporter from Dale. "We're just out for some air and don't wanna be bothered."

"You're stopping me from getting two stories!" the reported shouted angrily. "I do have rights!"

Having heard the shouting, Monty sauntered through the crowd, "Look, I'm willing to speak to the media, but not here and not like this," Dale spoke anxiously, noticing that Zipper was near tears and that Chip and Gadget were looking angry. "Give me your card and I'll contact you to arrange an interview."

A smile materialized on the reporter's face and he handed Dale a business card before leaving, shooting Zipper a look as he left the park, "Senk you for makeeng heem go avay," Zipper said anxiously.

"Dale, you don't have to talk to anyone," Chip replied anxiously. "I could have that reporter arrested."

Monty looked concerned, but Dale sighed, "I'll call him when I'm ready," Dale replied in a quiet voice.

Swallowing hard, Chip nodded and watched as Dale stared off into the park, deep in thought.

* * *

 ** _Please read and review!_**


	10. Coming Together in Friendship

_**September**_

 _ **First Manhattan Bank – Manhattan, New York**_

Dale silently tugged at the tie on the suit he had bought recently with Chip's help; he didn't enjoy wearing the silk tie because it aggravated the healing skin on his neck. He hadn't worn any sort of tie since before the fire or certain other fabrics because they aggravated his skin and left painful marks.

Ignoring the worried look that Chip was giving him, Dale used his free hand to sign the papers that would not only open him an account at Chip's bank, but give him access to his half of the trust that had been legally his since he was 21. His parents had lost their right to any money when they had been incarcerated and when Chip had turned 21, he had gotten it all moved to a bank in New York and they hadn't been in touch with each other at that point, so Chip simply did what he thought was best.

"Let me get you a bank card," Mr. Marconi, the bank manager, said as he got up from his desk.

Nodding, Dale silently undid the tie around his neck and took it off, "The silk aggravates my skin," he explained quietly, gazing at Chip. "The whole suit's uncomfortable and I want to return it."

Chip nodded, "Do you need your inhaler or anything?" he asked worriedly. "How's your breathing?"

"I'll have to take medicine when we get home," Dale replied quietly. "I don't work today, so…"

Mr. Marconi smiled as he retrieved a bank card from a filing cabinet and handed it to Dale, "Take this to the front and one of the tellers will help you get it set up," he said cheerfully. "Thank you for your time."

Dale nodded and got up, keeping quiet as he went to a teller's station in the main area of the bank and completed setting up his card. Chip also kept quiet as they finished their business and left, as he knew that Dale would talk when he felt ready. A fancy place like a bank had probably intimidated him.

"Chip, I know you have to go to work," Dale said quietly as they passed by a park. "I'll be fine."

Chip sighed patiently, "I'm on desk duty right now and it's only a couple days a week to start," he replied in a patient voice. "I worked yesterday and I work tomorrow, but I don't have anything to do today."

A pained expression crossed Dale's face, but he kept quiet during the rest of the walk back to the apartment and quietly retreated to his room once they were back home. Chip frowned, as Dale had spent the remainder of the summer upbeat and excited to do whatever he could in the city, but his personality had changed in the last few days and he had suddenly reverted to his childhood self.

Determined to get to the bottom of it quietly, Chip went to the closed bedroom door and knocked, "Come in," a quiet, subdued voice said that made Chip worry even more about his twin brother.

Chip silently decided to approach Dale as a brother first and then switch to the police approach if the situation turned out to be serious. As he opened the door, he saw Dale laying on his bed with a pile of unopened letters in his lap and a deeply troubled expression on his face as if the letters were bad news.

"Hey," Chip replied in a kind voice, wondering what was wrong. "Why are you so upset?"

Dale was silent for several moments, "I need to talk to the police officer you," he finally replied softly.

"Okay," Chip replied calmly, wondering if Dale was in some sort of trouble. "What's wrong?"

Dale looked grim, "I had letters from Mom and Dad forwarded to me from Maine and I really can't deal with them," he replied in a pained voice. "I have a restraining order, so they're not even supposed to…"

Chip silently eyed the letters, "I can't handle this personally because it's a conflict of interest, but I can take you to another detective at my precinct and they can handle it," he replied calmly. "All right?"

"Oh, Chip, I already dealt with this in Maine and I'm not sure if I can go into yet another police station and talk about the past," Dale replied quietly, fatigue in his voice. "Can't the cops make housecalls?"

Chip silently gathered the letters, "I can call and find out," he replied calmly. "Are you okay?"

"I just need a special bath, some asthma medicine, and a rest," Dale replied softly. "I'm not well."

Chip nodded and watched as Dale prepped his tub with the things he needed before shedding the suit all over the floor. Dale was in the tub for several minutes cleaning before getting out, drying with a special towel, and dressing in underclothes, sweats, a loose shirt, and slippers to fit his missing toes.

"Look, why don't you get some rest and I'll call this in?" Chip suggested calmly. "Where are your meds?"

Sighing, Dale took some asthma medicine and silently climbed into his bed, too exhausted to do anything but close his eyes. Chip gathered the letters from the bed and silently left Dale's room.

* * *

"NO, Drake, I do NOT need you to set me up with any of those single girls that come in to get stuff from the deli!" Chip's annoyed voice filled the hallway outside of Dale's room. "I just wanted to order food…"

Recognizing Chip's voice, Dale stirred groggily and lay still only briefly before stumbling out of bed and putting on a hoodie over his shirt. He had slept and felt better, but he was now feeling thirsty.

Sighing softly, Dale slowly made his way out of his room and into the area where the kitchen and living room were. He saw that Chip was sitting at the computer with the cordless phone to his ear.

Not wanting to draw attention to himself, Dale silently went into the kitchen and got himself a glass of water that helped him feel less groggy, "….Yes, I will pay for it when Monty and I come get it," Chip said in a calmer voice. "Please don't tell Zipper about any of it, as it's a surprise to welcome him back…"

There was a click and Chip sighed as he set the phone down, "Hey there, Dale," he said warmly.

"You're throwing that Zipper kid a party?" Dale asked quietly. "That's really nice of you."

Chip nodded and smiled, "Before Monty found him, Zipper was in captivity for 10 years and he's trying to figure out how the world works now," he explained calmly. "I thought a little party with a few friends would help Zipper feel welcome. I hear he's doing really, really well in that GED course and might do…"

"Um, I'm not exactly friends with Zipper," Dale replied nervously. "He thought I was you."

Chip sighed as he got to his feet, "I'm not exactly friends with anyone here," Dale confessed quietly. "And I sure don't expect anyone to be friends with me, especially since I'm not a whole person."

"Dale, you had toes amputated so you wouldn't lose the rest of your foot or leg and you lost those toes being a hero," Chip spoke firmly. "How can you stand there and bash yourself after you saved people?"

Dale swallowed hard, but didn't say anything, "It's all that crap that our so called parents drilled into your head because you were easily distracted in school," Chip spoke quietly. "Isn't it?"

"Yeah," Dale spoke quietly, setting the empty glass in the sink. "I got therapy when I went to college, but stuff like that doesn't ever really leave you completely. Why…why exactly were you yelling at Drake?"

Chip sighed, "Drake seems to have it in his head that I need to go on dates," he replied firmly. "It hasn't been that long since Donna's death and I need more time before I start dating again. What about you?"

"Oh, I'm not looking to date," Dale spoke quietly. "I have a job and I'm recovering from the fire still."

Chip nodded, "Speaking of work, I called over to the precinct and explained the thing about the letters," he commented gently. "I said you weren't up to going out, so they'll send a guy over to talk to you."

"When is Zipper's party?" Dale asked quietly. "And can I do anything to help with it?"

Chip sighed, "It's just a little dinner tonight that will be here because we have the space and I was going to get Monty to help me with the food after he gets off work, but do you want to?" he asked kindly.

"You'd have to lead me there, but I can help with that," Dale replied calmly. "Are you driving?"

Chip swallowed hard, as he hadn't driven since before the accident and had suffered an anxiety attack the last time he had been in Dale's car. However, Dale's health was shaky and he shouldn't drive the car himself because he might crash it. Chip knew that he needed to get over his anxiety about driving.

"Look, I can drive," Dale spoke up in a tired voice. "I know how you feel about being in the car."

Chip sighed, "You're impaired by your own health right now, Dale, and I cannot legally let you operate a motor vehicle," he replied firmly. "I'm speaking as both your brother and an officer of the law."

Dale nodded, "Us going to get the food will give Monty a chance to get Zipper from the educational center," Chip said in a calm voice, grabbing his fedora off a wall hook. "Do you need anything?"

"I just need to grab my wallet from my room," Dale replied in a quiet voice. "What about the interview?"

Chip shrugged, but before he could reply, there was a buzz at the door, "Detective De La Hoya, it's Detective Morgan," a voice said. "I'm here to talk to your brother about those letters."

"Do you want me to stay?" Chip asked gazing at Dale. "I can ask Foxy to get the food instead."

Dale nodded, watching as Chip buzzed his colleague into the building, "The letters are on the table," Chip said calmly. "I'll call Foxy while you're talking to Detective Morgan about what happened."

Sighing, Dale took a seat at the table and silently sifted through the unopened letters.

* * *

 ** _Tendara Educational Facility_**

Zipper found comfort in the library of the school more than he liked being in a classroom with other individuals who were trying to get their high school done. The first few days had gone smoothly, but people had quickly figured out who he was and that he was a former prisoner of a crime lord. The school had asked him if he wanted to do media interviews, but Zipper had declined because the 10 years being a prisoner of Fat Cat gave him frequent enough nightmares that Monty had gotten him some sleep tea.

Thankfully, the school had respected his request, but other students treated him like he was some sort of celebrity and so Zipper had spent most days in the privacy of the library. Nobody had seen any problem with that because Zipper got all of his work done each day and was at the top of his class.

Zipper smiled as he reached the end of yet another chapter in one of the many workbooks he used to get through his lessons. His hands, however, were now trembling and he knew he needed to take a break to not only rest his healing arm, but also get something to eat to offset his hypoglycemia.

Quickly returning his books to the backpack Monty had bought him for school, Zipper silently got up and left the library with his bag. He silently went to the food court that served both the schools and the continuing education classes and saw that it was quiet, as most were in classes. The only people in the food court were the staff and Gerry Hackwrench, who was enjoying a sandwich, apple, and juice.

"Doctor Hackwrench, hello," Zipper said warmly as he walked over to him. "Vat are you doing here?"

Geegaw smiled, "I do health rounds in the area sometimes and today, I was doing them here," he explained in a kind voice. "By the way your hands are shaking, I'm guessing you have low sugar?"

Zipper nodded and sighed softly, "I am told zat students get free food here veeth zeir student cards," he replied in a quiet voice. "Detecteeve Jack vanted to pack me a lunch, but I do not vant to bozzer heem."

Geegaw watched as Zipper got a tray and filled it with a plate of turkey sandwich, a bowl of cottage cheese, and a bottle of juice before returning to the table, "I steel find eet hard to eet a lot because I was newer geewen a lot of food," Zipper explained sitting down. "So I just eeet wery leetle."

"That's good as a starting point, but you should eventually increase the amount of food you eat to build up your strength," Geegaw replied calmly. "You're underweight for your age, but I understand that."

Zipper nodded and silently ate before sighing, "You were in a very bad situation for 10 years, Pavel," Geegaw spoke gently. "Just take your time re-integrating yourself back into the free world, okay?"

"I go for valks to try and learn my vay around, but I am not from ze city," Zipper spoke quietly.

Geegaw nodded, "I do not hawe a home but zis, as Fat Cat and eez people burned my village after zey keednapped me and people vere eizer keeled or ran avay," Zipper spoke quietly. "Eet vas scary."

"I have many friends who are counselors if you need someone to talk to," Geegaw offered gently.

Before Zipper could reply, the bell rang, "Oh, ze school day is ower," he said in a shocked voice.

"Do you want me to walk you anywhere?" Geegaw offered as Zipper quickly finished his food.

Shaking his head, Zipper got up and got rid of his tray, "Detectiwe Jack eez coming and he eez going to giwe me a guided tour of ze area," he replied eagerly. "I need to know eet for myself."

"Well, I hope you have a good day then," Geegaw replied, smiling because Chip had invited him to Zipper's party and it was to be a surprise. "If you ever want to talk, come by the hospital, okay?"

Nodding, Zipper silently took his bag and went into the hallway, deeply relieved when he saw Detective Jack leaning against a wall talking with Gadget. Unknown to Zipper, Monty had invited Gadget and her children to Zipper's surprise party, as he knew that Zipper had become good friends with Gadget.

"Hello," Zipper said in a kind voice, smiling at both Monty and Gadget. "How are you boz?"

Gadget smiled, "Oh, tired and just waiting for Tammy and Mark," she replied. "How are you?"

Zipper sighed, "A leetle tired, but school eez hard vork," he replied quietly. "I really like eet."

"That's good," Gadget replied in an encouraging voice, smiling as she saw Mark and Tammy.

Monty smiled at his young friend, "Let's go do our walk, shall we?" he suggested kindly.

* * *

A buzzing sound filled the air of Chip and Dale's apartment as Dale and Detective Morgan sat at the dining room table, talking quietly about the letters that Dale had received over the years. The letters had been carefully opened, quietly read, and would now be taken and shared with the sender's prison.

The buzz sounded again and Chip came into the common area wearing a suit and tie like he was going to work, as he was nervous about the party; he hadn't had a dinner party since before his family's death and he hoped he could pull it off without breaking down. He smiled at Dale before getting the door.

"Hey there, Foxy," Chip said warmly as he opened the door and saw Foxy and Dustin standing there with their arms filled with food from Drake's deli. "Hey there, Dustin. Did you help your mom get the food?"

Dustin nodded, "Hey, um, Foxy, why don't you and your son stay for the dinner?" Dale spoke up nervously, secretly pleased to see them again after they had met in the park. "You're welcome to."

Chip raised his eyebrow in amusement as he took the food and carried it over to the counter, "That's very nice of you," Foxy replied in a pleased voice, smiling at Dale. "Why…why is an officer here?"

Dale sighed, "Some unwanted mail got delivered to me and I'm making sure it gets returned to sender," he replied in a calm voice, not wanting to bring up his past. "Chip, you are really, really overdressed."

"I just want the party to go well," Chip replied quietly. "I haven't had a party since before…"

Detective Morgan picked up the bag that had the letters in them, "Jon, you're welcome to stay." Chip said in a quiet voice, quickly composing himself as he looked at his colleague. "How long are you on?"

"Oh, I'm on all night, but I'll stay long enough to say hi to Zipper and eat," Detective Morgan replied.

Just then, there was a knock at the door and Foxy answered it, smiling when Gadget, Mark, and Tammy came in, "Monty invited us because we're close to Zipper," Gadget spoke kindly. "I hope it's okay."

"It's fine," Chip replied in an eager voice, smiling at them. "I'm assuming they're on their way?"

Gadget nodded and smiled as the door buzz went off, "Chip, hey!" Monty's voice called out.

Chuckling softly, Chip pressed the button and everyone waited in silence as Monty and Zipper made their way upstairs. When he heard voices outside the door, Chip opened it and smiled.

Seeing all of the people in the apartment prompted Zipper to freeze with an expression of shock on his face, "Vat eez all zees?" he asked in a confused voice, afraid to go inside. "Deed I interrupt a party?"

"I planned a party for you to help you feel welcome," Chip explained gently. "Come inside."

Swallowing hard, Zipper came inside the apartment and promptly fainted from nervousness and confusion as to what was going on. Dale's eyes widened and he quickly hurried to Zipper's side, his paramedic training kicking in while everyone watched, "I need some smelling salts," he ordered.

Gadget quickly got some out of her pocket and Dale took them, "Come on, Zipper," Dale spoke softly, gently waving the salt under his nose. "I think he got overwhelmed with the whole surprise part."

Zipper stirred and opened his eyes, "I am not used to…good surprises," he spoke in a faint voice.

Dale nodded and carefully helped Zipper sit up, "Are you all right now?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," Zipper replied in a quiet voice. "I am sorry I fainted. I am not used to people being nice."

Dale smiled and helped Zipper up, "I ordered some food from Drake's Deli," Chip spoke up in a calm voice, watching as Dale helped Zipper to the table. "Since we're all here, why don't we eat?"

As everyone dug into the food, Dale made sure Zipper was seated at the table and then moved out of the way so everyone else could get their food first. He silently sat on the living room couch and watched the group, perfectly satisfied with staying out of the way because of how he was feeling.

Sensing his twin brother's discomfort, Chip silently made two plates of food and brought them over to the couch, "Here," he spoke quietly, handing a plate to Dale. "You need to keep your strength up."

Dale nodded his thanks and watched as Foxy helped Dustin get food before they sat down with Zipper, Gadget, Mark, Monty, and Tammy at the table, "You seem happy to see Foxy," Chip whispered.

"Yes," Dale admitted softly, gazing at his brother. "I admit that's she's nice looking and very kind, but she really wouldn't go for a guy like me. I'm also sure that Dustin doesn't want his mother dating…"

Chip sighed quietly, "Just be her friend, then," he replied softly. "After all, she led you to me."

Dale frowned in confusion, "Foxy told me you two ran into each other at the grocery store the day you came over," Chip spoke softly, smiling. "It doesn't have to be tonight, but you should really thank her."

"I'll think about it, okay?" Dale spoke softly, eyeing Chip's hand. "You're still wearing your ring. What's that about?"

Clearly not ready to discuss why he still wore his wedding ring, Chip shrugged and ate his supper.

* * *

 _ **California State Penitentiary**_

"...Roberto De La Hoya, you have a visitor," Roberto DeLaHoya, a man who greatly resembled Chip and Dale except for the prison blues he was wearing and grey hair, heard as he sat in his cell reading quietly.

Roberto scoffed, "It cannot be my idiot sons," he hissed. "Chip's spoiled and Dale ignores my letters."

Getting no reply from the guard, who was secretly afraid of him, Roberto got up and walked into the visitor area close to his cell. A well-built man who sported grey hair and a grey mustache while wearing a dark purple suit and black coat was seated at a table, silently ignoring all of the guards watching him.

"My name is Maltese De Sade," the man said in a heavy French accent. "I know who you are, of course."

Roberto raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, "You are the rich and famous Roberto De La Hoya," Maltese said in an amused voice. "I have read about you in the newspapers over the waters!"

"Famous, yes, but not rich," Roberto grumbled. "I lost my money to my sons when I came here."

Maltese chuckled, "I know you have life in ze prison, but it does not have to be as unbearable as you are making it," he replied in a pleasant voice. "Why do you not simply listen to what I have to offer you?"

"You better make it good," Roberto hissed coldly. "How many more years must I spend in this misery?"

As Maltese spoke about his plan, Roberto silently thought about how much he hated both his sons.

* * *

 ** _Please read and review!_**


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